


Crash and Burn

by kickassanakin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU - Canon Divergence, Bloodplay, Demon!Dean, EVERYONE'S A FREAKIN' DEMON, Knifeplay, M/M, Possession, Torture, anyone who isn't a demon dies, fallen!cas, kind of bondage, mentions of Sam/Jess - Freeform, there is so much sex, there's also some demonic fluff i'm not too sure how that happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-03 04:19:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 20,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickassanakin/pseuds/kickassanakin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of rescuing Dean, Castiel got captured by Alistair.<br/>Alistair wanted to give his favorite student a present. </p><p>From the moment Dean set eyes on the winged soul resting on the rack, the world was doomed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Howdy, Partner

**Author's Note:**

> hahhahAHAH HOLY SHIT THIS FIC IS SO FUCKED UP. I'm sorry. But if you love fucked-up fics, this is one for you!  
> Warning to all those hoping for a redemption: nope. Get out while you still can.

This soul was different.

It radiated Other; practically glowed with power. Such a soul was definitely rare in Hell, since most supernatural baddies went to Purgatory after death. Only vengeful spirits (of humans, that is) could go downstairs or upstairs.

The upstairs part was a guess more than an alternative option. Only the white-eyes and the higher-up red-eyes seemed to know anything these days, and Crowley was a little too secretive for Dean's liking.

Really, Dean didn't question too much - that was probably his saving grace. Well, besides the fact that he was Alistair's favorite toy at the time. He was practically next in line for Head Torturer - a job that he was surprisingly okay with.

Back to newbie. This soul definitely differed from the others Dean had seen in his five or so years of torture - then again, it had only been five years. Maybe there were some really fucked up souls that he'd get to play with if he stayed long enough. The soul looked normal enough: a mess of brown-and-black hair, flopping into bright, unearthly blue eyes. The man (he assumed it was a man, but honestly souls were _really_ hard to distinguish down below) was a little on the pale side, but not too much so. Maybe he was just a normal soul. After death, they had all sorts of extremities added on to their iridescent bodies.

Although, Alistair had never mentioned souls having _wings_ before, either. Oh well. Just meant that Dean had more canvas to work on. With a malicious grin, he picked up one gleaming, silver knife and twirled it expertly in one hand. "Hey there, angelface," he smirked as he sauntered over to the enraged soul's rack. "mind answering a question for me?"

At its surprising silence, Dean continued - still managing the facade of a perfectly mannered young man. "I just want to know your name, is all..." He tilted his head down to look at his bare toes; his eyes flickering to a milky grey color. Not a demon yet, but getting there. Enough to frighten the newer souls. "So that I can scream it out after I've fucked you dry." He looked up to see the winged soul's eyes widen with curiosity. Definitely a newbie, if he really was as confused as he looked.

"Dean Winchester?" The soul asked, its eyes alighting with dull hope. Smoky tendrils that curled around Dean's feet swirled up his bare legs with a hyper buzz, and his eyes brightened as he heard the familiar name. Who was this soul? Why did he know Dean's name?

"All right," Dean growled, letting his slowly rotting soul shift and form into something more threatening - well, his eyes flickered smoky grey again, and his teeth lengthened and sharpened into vicious fangs, but that was about all he could change at the moment. Eventually, when he became a full demon, he could change whatever aspect of himself that he wished. "what the hell do you want with me?"

The soul grunted softly and stared into Dean's eyes. "I wish to drag you from Hell, Dean," it said at last - and boy, was his voice something Dean wouldn't mind fucking. "but it appears that I am, well -" One long, tapered finger reached up to pluck at a thin golden chain around his throat. "- bound here."

Dean slithered over to the soul's side, noting the sheen of magic pulsating off of it. Upon closer inspection, the soul's wings were ratty and matted with blood and sweat. Huh. He reached out to take hold of a few golden feathers, and grinned as the soul's breathing hitched and his entire body tensed up in fear. "Interesting," the near-demon murmured softly as he ran his hand through a few feathers, "I've never known a soul's extra odds and ends to actually _feel_ anything." He took a step back and inspected the bound soul once more. "You're not human, are you?"

"He's definitely not, Deano," His master's voice rang throughout the torture chambers, letting everyone know Alistair was back from his previous plans. The winged soul looked up and bared his teeth in a feral snarl at the master torturer. Dean got a good look at those pearly whites - perhaps they wouldn't be so pearly or white after he had a chance to really look at 'em. "C'mon, I've got some news for you," Alistair purred as he grabbed Dean by the bicep and pulled him away.

After finding a reclusive spot in the chambers, Alistair grinned and spread his arms out wide. "What... did you do?" Dean asked cautiously, tilting his head to the side briefly as he waited for an answer. Alistair nearly pouted at his obvious lack of knowledge.

"That, my dear boy, is an honest-to-God angel." The accented lisp Alistair usually only slightly frightened Dean these days, but this time it managed to cover him in a blanket of fear. "Wings and all."

"What're you gonna do with it?" Dean had to ask - it was the only thing he could do. Either the master torturer was insane, or he was incredibly cunning. Dean liked to think it was a strange mix of both wonderful qualities. Alistair gave him a dry look with his eyes as white as snow, and chuckled darkly.

"Why, I'm giving him to my best student." The master torturer supplied with a crooked smile. At Dean's shocked silence, he continued. "That would be you, you know." Dean nodded in utter silence as the full brunt of Alistair's statement hit him.

He was going to get to keep an angel? Make him sleep in the same bed every night; fuck the living daylights out of him? Maybe, if he got lucky, he could even convince the angel to turn over. Sex was so much more wonderful when both people - or more, Dean wasn't picky these days - were consenting and wanting it. Just taking it with raw force may have made him feel powerful, but he really didn't need that feeling. He could just as easily find some low class demon whore and have his way with them.

He gave his appreciation to Alistair and went back to the angel who waited patiently on the rack. The chains used to tie him down were heavy and definitely supernaturally enhanced. Dean noticed the - was that Enochian? - scars burned and cut into the angel's skin. Blood rushed through him as he stepped just a little closer, taking its head in his hands. "Hey there, angelface," Dean greeted, his words oozing like black slime, "you're coming home with me. Doesn't that make you all tingly inside?" He grinned maliciously at this; his head tilted to the side and his eyes flickering between smoky grey and sparkling hazel. He leaned in to the angel's side, letting his hot breath waft over the ears of the angel. "We're going to have so much _fun_."


	2. Beginning of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most partnerships begin with a handshake. 
> 
> Dean and Castiel's began after forty years of torture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I TOLD MYSELF TO WAIT A WEEK BUT PART OF MY SOUL (what's left of it anyway) SHRIVELED UP AND DIED AT THE PROSPECT SO HERE YOU GO ONE EXTRA CHAPTER BEFORE EVERYTHING GETS SUPER FUCKED UP.

The angel was, quite possibly, the best present Dean had ever received. It was so hard to break it down, especially since it had that nifty healing mojo, but once he really got going on poor Feathers... well, hearing its deep, guttural screams definitely helped prolong the torture. Then, when Dean would ask if the sweet, little angel would like to pick up his knife after a long day of torture, it merely shook its head and mustered up the fiercest glare it could manage, not even daring to speak out a 'no' for fear of its voice completely shattering.

It was empowering, being able to render a creature speechless due to pain. He didn't even miss the days when he left ladies speechless from pleasure - those were dim memories, almost an entire lifetime ago, from when he had been human. Causing pain was just so much more... refined. Pure, maybe. All Dean knew was that he _definitely_ got off on the torture.

Honestly, Dean didn't care what you'd call it. All he knew that after being tortured for thirty years, he was ready to let loose on some unwilling souls of his own. He wanted to break souls fastest; to be the best (or worst, depending on your viewpoint) demon that Hell had to offer. So, breaking an angel? Being the cause for one of Hell's most dangerous weapons? Oh yeah, that'd bag him a fantastic promotion.

And he couldn't have all the credit go to Alistair, right? He already had the angel's first task: kill Alistair. Smite him into oblivion. That way, Dean could claim all the power of capturing and breaking it. Say what you will, but Dean still resented that son of a bitch, just like he hated Ruby and Lilith.

Damn, he was going to make an awesome demon. It rankled that he was still about a century away until his eyes totally turned black and his soul rotted into oblivion. _Unless_...

The angel let out a low moan as Dean pulled the lever. _Oops_ , Dean thought amusedly, _wrong lever_. He pulled on the one adjacent to the 'wrong lever' and Feathers let out a high-pitched, ringing scream. "Oh," he grinned wolfishly, "we like that, huh?"

Even after nearly forty years of constant torture (it was probably around New Year's on Earth), the angel never told Dean its name. It hadn't spoken a single word since its first confused admittance that he had been sent to save Dean. It really would be worth it once Feathers let it slip just what angel he was, but until then Dean just called him - well, Feathers. The nickname stuck, apparently. Also, Dean really liked getting the angel's golden wings as dirty as possible - at the beginning of each session they were pristine and shining things, but by the end of it they were sweaty, bloody and broken.

They were so _beautiful_. Dean just wished they weren't so... bright.

Still, it was odd when Dean heard it mutter something under its breath. "What was that?" The not-quite demon asked, leaning in close to hear the broken whisper.

"I said I give in, you unholy _beast_ ," the angel snarled. "just let him go."

Dean cocked his head to the side, his eyes flickering dark grey. "Who's this 'he' you're talking about, Feathers?" He slid around to whisper into the angel's other ear, "Are you cheating on me? My, my," he tutted, a sick grin on his face, "and here I thought I was _special_."

"This... vessel. I have a vessel. I would like to return him home before I take up the blade." It grimaced at last. "I can't get out of this vessel - Alistair saw to burning sigils into the skin to prevent my escape," he added on as an afterthought, "I can only leave his soul to rest in the Elysian Fields of my Father. _Please_."

Dean tapped two fingers on his chin, regarding the situation with a steady mind. The angel was tied down to Hell, so even if he tried to stay in Heaven they could just yank him back down. It could work... as long as he didn't find any angels and ask for their help. "All right, but I come with you. And we're there for no more than ten seconds, or you're getting put back on the rack for the rest of the century. Got it, Feathers?"

"My name is Castiel." The angel croaked as Dean undid his chains. He flapped his wings once and extended one hand to touch Dean's face.

Oh.

Heaven was... boring. There was nothing except for pristine white, and there wasn't even a single screaming soul in sight. Actually, there were no souls in sight. Just Castiel. Dean looked at the angel impatiently, tapping his foot on the ground. "We're on a time limit here, Cas."

Castiel nodded and a bright light slipped out of him. It looked a little bit like the vessel Cas wore, but more... glowy.

Souls were weird.

Dean was glad he wouldn't be going up to Heaven when (if) he finally bit the dust. There was no way he was gonna look like a freakin' shining Tinker Bell. Dean grumbled uselessly and began to count the seconds they spent up above. 

The sound of ruffled feathers interrupted his timekeeping. He looked up to see Castiel staring back with those blazingly bright eyes of his. The arm extended out once more, and-

They were back in Hell. Screams echoed through the stagnant air, and Dean let out a soft smile. "I suppose you're going to give me a soul now?" Castiel looked kind of... depressed. Like someone just shot his puppy in the face before running over it with a tank.

Dean felt a sharklike grin come over his face. "Nah," he chuckled at the angel's confusion, "I have one first request, before we get you officially started."

Castiel's head tilted with confusion, his blue eyes widening with curiosity. "What is it?" He questioned after a moment. Dean cracked his knuckles and his eyes suddenly went from amused hazel to sparkling grey.

"I need you to kill your original captor," he chuckled darkly, "You feel up to that, Cas?"

The angel nodded, his head bobbing up and down harshly. "I will go for the next best thing, yes," he glared at Dean when he said this, and if the poor angel hadn't been broken beyond belief and bound to Hell when he said that, Dean might have been scared. Since the guy had a collar around his neck, though - well, there was nothing to fear! Unless you were Alistair, of course.

Dean rang the bell next to his rack to signal the Head Torturer. Within minutes, the Alistair was at his station, eyes wide and white like a sick and blind kitten's. "You did it? In _forty_ years?" Alistair seemed incredibly impressed - Dean too, for that matter. Forty years for a near-omnipotent supernatural being, whereas he had been on the rack for thirty? Almost didn't make sense. Except hey, the dude had a human soul in there, and that one was gonna break sooner or later - right? Dean decided that he would ignore the 'that human lasted longer than you did, ha ha ha' taunt that sounded in his head.

Dean didn't bother sharing his revelations with Alistair. Besides, the guy was about to die. Dean looked back at Castiel with a glint in his eyes, jerked his head towards Alistair, and grinned. "Sic 'em, _boy_ ," Dean all but whispered. Alistair's eyes widened as the fury of a captured angel fell upon him, and with a bright burst of light and a painful ringing noise, simply disappeared. Dean opened his own eyes and unplugged his ears before surveying the scene. "Damn it Cas, we should have done that somewhere that _wasn't_ my rack."

Castiel looked at him oddly, but made no mention of the nickname. "Now that I have had as much revenge as I am allowed to have," Castiel growled, "I would appreciate it if you could begin my damnation."

And just like that, Dean's eyes changed from grey to pitch-black. That's right world, Dean Winchester was no longer some soppy half-demon.

He was a bloodthirsty monster in control of a soon-to-be bloodthirsty angel, and there was no way any God could save anyone from the destruction this dynamic duo would bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna be more than the eight or nine chapters i planned - Muse have me a delightfully fucky idea and I already began to write it up.


	3. Surely Father...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel loses his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. This is where the first bit of smut comes in (although it's from an angel's POV, so don't expect it to be super hot under the collar or anything). 
> 
> They've hit rock bottom, where else can they go?

With a heaving breath, Castiel tore into the soul on his own rack. The woman shrieked as her flesh ripped and innards spilled out, yet Castiel only felt a dull twinge of satisfaction at a job well done. He didn't feel the possessing lust or happiness as he ripped apart human souls - just a dim, dark twist of his insides that grew less sickening by the day.

Dean told him it would get better. Surprisingly enough, Castiel believed the demon. Dean believed that Castiel's faith continued to be the deciding factor in his lack of enthusiasm, and that as his faith in his Father deteriorated, his demonic prowess would increase. Eventually, he would be the most powerful being Hell has ever seen - maybe even moreso than Lucifer himself.

And Lucifer was just a myth. Well, until Castiel had let it slip that the devil truly existed. Dean had merely blinked with surprise and shrugged, gesturing Castiel closer so the demon could explain all the minute muscles in the facial structure. He had silenced the soul he demonstrated on with a snap of his fingers, but every sensation was still felt by the poor man.

* * *

That was the day his golden downy feathers faded to grey.

Surely Father couldn't allow such endless torture for these humans, despite the sins they committed.

Surely Father wouldn't let Castiel remain in Perdition for eternity, with the demon Dean as his superior - his master.

Surely Father wouldn't let Castiel be stolen into the dark.

Surely Father loved him. He loved all of His creations - why would he ignore Castiel?

* * *

Dean tried to show Castiel that Father no longer cared. He committed many sins, from killing innocent people to sodomizing others - all in front of the angel, of course. No righteous wrath rained down upon him. It occurred to Castiel that Perdition had seen behavior such as this since the dawn of Sin, and suddenly his faith seemed insignificant in comparison to the great, all-consuming _dark_ that weighed so heavily against him.

* * *

Just like the dark, his delicate contour feathers hardened under the weight he faced.

Surely Father couldn't allow this to go on forever.

Surely Father would rescue those truly innocent from Hell's wrath.

Surely Father had a divine plan in His head.

* * *

Sometimes, Dean would use Castiel's body to 'get his rocks off'. Generally such activities would entail Dean rubbing his erection against the crook of Castiel's buttocks, until he reached climax and his member painted Castiel's backside with sticky white fluid. He generally forced Castiel to stay still for these activities, but it wasn't like he could refuse the demon anyway. Dean often complained over the fact that Castiel never 'got it up and ready for action', which he assumed was a euphemism for getting an erection for Dean to reciprocate his affections toward, but Castiel honestly couldn't be bothered by such menial and senseless tasks. He had been created for such a higher purpose than to serve as a demon's consort. He felt dirty and broken at the best of times.

* * *

After these attempts at intercourse, he could very much feel the inky darkness beginning to coat the rest of his feathers.

Surely Father would see him struggling to maintain his faith.

Surely Father would at least send a sign of His love for Castiel; send proof that one day his torture would end.

* * *

There would be days where Castiel would snap. He would tear into souls like a starving dog would a piece of fresh meat, ripping and snarling and making such a mess around him that only a few beings dared stray too close.   
Dean was always one of those few. He would stand by Castiel's side, with a wide grin and flickering eyes. Occasionally he would pat the angel on the bottom, and although Castiel did not understand why Dean did this, it was slightly comforting to know that someone else was nearby to watch him rot even further. It proved to him that he was most assuredly not alone in this land of decay and pain.   
It was getting harder to ignore the burst of light that nearly exploded in his chest when Dean was near.

* * *

Nor the way his wings fluffed out in preparation to submit to his superior.

Surely Father would notice his affections growing for his captor.

* * *

Castiel hated the way his heart and grace stuttered whenever Dean was near. How he no longer was disgusted at the thought of creating demons - in fact, was quite fascinated by it all. How his body was suddenly changing, rather than staying in permanent stasis; frozen in time.

It happened on a lazy day, when other, less experienced demons were training in the racks. Castiel felt something he definitely hadn't felt before. Dean was whispering dirty promises in his ear, pressing his lips close and sending the words with a leer. Castiel had, for once, actually been listening to the demon - he was dully interested in the way Dean tried to seduce him. It was almost endearing, in fact-

Castiel gasped as a shiver of pure desire rolled through him. It was strong and utterly impossible to resist. He could feel his member growing hard at the prospect of the sinful deeds Dean had promised him, and suddenly he found himself directly on top of the demon; straddling him. Dean looked up with wide eyes for only a moment before noticing the tent in Castiel's pants, and then everything was a blur except for the clash of tongues and teeth and the breathy moans both men would make.

Then Castiel could feel the friction as his denim-clad cock rubbed against Dean's own. Although the feeling was rapturous alone, Castiel knew he needed more. With barely a moment's thought, clothes were long forgotten objects to both men. Their bare erections immediately found friction in the hollow of the other's hip, and suddenly there was nothing but panting breaths and glorious _feeling_...

Castiel had never felt such a thing before. Before, when he had been a simply angel in Heaven; where he had no idea of the pain one could endure. He never knew that such pleasure could derive from such suffering.

And there he was, becoming nearly as one with one of God's rejects, taking part in sins of the flesh and surely damning himself worse than when he had tortured with feverish glee.

Yet still, Castiel had never felt so good in his entire existence.

As he came, merely seconds after Dean, he could not believe he had been uninterested in fornication for so long. It was messy and dirty and _glorious_ , and it made Castiel feel stronger than he had in hundreds of years.

During the final burst of pleasure, he knew that his wings were no longer golden or righteous. They had embodied the very thing he used to fear - the black, hardened contours of his feathers would be terrifying to anyone else, yet they merely were a comfort to Castiel. He could still stretch them out; he could still fly (the chain that bound him to Hell did not prevent flights in that particular dimension); he could still secrete oil to keep his feathers healthy - the true difference was that they were as black as a demon's true form, glittering with damnation and radiating sin.

Surely Father didn't care about him anymore.

At least, Cas hoped so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tHIS FIC KEEPS GETTING LONGER AND LONGER I


	4. Futuero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into the life of our favorite demons. Fallen angel and demon. Whatever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is just sex. And this isn't even as weird and kinky as it gets (I'm still blushing from later chapters, eheh). 
> 
> And maybe a little bit of plot somewhere in there because... yeah.  
> Also this is the first smut I've written just by myself (Pump It was a two-person task, lol) so don't murder me.

"Are- Are you an angel?" The soul asked, stuttering over words of hope that surely echoed with false light. Cas grinned, flaring his blackened wings out behind him. The soul in questioned whined and struggled around on its rack, causing the large hooks embedded in its skin to rip and tear at muscle even further.

"Do I _look_ like an angel to you?"

Before the soul could respond, Cas was digging the knife in deep and twisting it painfully, causing the soul (identified as a male) to scream out pitifully. Cas growled in pleasure and turned his head a fraction of an inch, just to wink at Dean and shrug his shoulders. Dean winked back, and then all of a sudden he had an armful of fallen angel. Black feathers obscured his vision, but from what he could tell they were still in the racks.

Before other demons could object to such public displays of affection, Dean flipped them all off and Cas did his magic flying thing, and then they were back in Dean's small apartment, off in a lower section of Hell that only the higher-ups were really allowed in. Dean never was one for flashy, fancy houses. Give him a cramped little place and he was as happy as a clam. If clams were happy, that is. 

Demons didn't like it when there was a positive emotion derived from a source other than torture and blood, but Dean and Cas somehow managed it anyways.

Good thing Dean had the angel at his side. Or, kissing the life out of him, actually. If he had any of that stuff left, y'know. " _Mmh_ , Cas," Dean murmured against his angel's lips, "I hope you let your rack know you'd be taking the afternoon off."

"I want to ride you, Dean." Castiel growled in reply, moving to leave a line of kisses down the demon's jaw. Dean very nearly completely froze at that, although Cas' great, dark wings twitched with amusement and excitement.

Sure, they had given each other blow jobs, and hand jobs, and hell did they love rutting against one another with the 'whoever comes first has to lick it all off' contest, but never... Cas aways had that one last reservation; that one last fear (or was it hope?) that God would save him from this dimension of iniquity.

Well, apparently he'd finally come to terms with the fact that he was Dean's bitch for all of eternity.

 _Awesome_.

Cas' eye twitched playfully, and suddenly Dean found himself laying on their bed, watching as the angel summoned a bottle of lube into his hand. He took a generous amount and then fucking _winked_ at Dean, just a little side-eye that had the demon salivating, and then he was fucking himself with one, then two, then three fingers - oh, _God_. His wings were twitching with barely-restrained desire, and sweet merciful _fuck_ his cock was so beautiful: slightly curved, and blushing at the tip where a bead of precome glistened. Dean was going to die just from watching his angel prep himself. Dean thrusted upwards on pure instinct, however futile those efforts were. Cas just kind of smirked at Dean and then crawled over, bottle of lube in hand. "Are you ready, Dean?" Cas whispered, and Dean had to bite back a fucking _whimper_ of desire. Cas had his hands all slathered up with the lube, and as soon as they stroked Dean's leaking dick, covering it in the cold, clammy substance, Dean thrusted upwards in an attempt to get more friction. He hadn't been this hard from watching anyone open themselves up for him, ever.

"Come on, you asshole, get on with it!" Dean nearly snapped, feeling himself begin to succumb to his desire. Cas simply nodded with another smirk and positioned himself directly above Dean's dick. He reached underneath himself to grab the head of Dean's cock, and placed it right at Cas' entrance. Dean couldn't hold back his moan as his hips rolled upwards shallowly.

Finally, Cas pushed himself down. His wings flapped once, then twice, as a long moan ripped itself out of his throat.

A dazed look entered Cas' eyes as he sank down on Dean's cock. It took a moment to adjust and then Dean was urging his hips upwards weakly, desperate for the idiot to just _get moving already_. A soft moan escaped the angel's mouth before he rose up and slid back down, and Dean was more than effectively silenced - well, 'silenced' wasn't the best word choice - he was cursing and groaning and the wet smack of skin on skin only added to the utter profanity of it all. The spacey air hadn't left Cas' eyes, and dimly Dean thought he looked like he was receiving some kind of unholy revelation.

"Fuck, Cas," Dean managed to grunt out, "so _tight_ -"

Castiel's gaze sharpened at that moment, and with a satisfied smirk he reached down and grabbed his own dick, bobbing his hand up and down as he rode Dean just that much harder. Both creatures let out simultaneous moans and Dean's hips began to stutter in their frantic thrusting. Cas added new energy to his own motions, trying to milk the most out of it before -

Cas came with a soft groan, his ass clenching around Dean's dick as he quite nearly exploded all over the both of them; white and sticky come getting on their chests and Cas's hand. Dean came shortly after that; his own come spilling into Cas's ass.

Cas waited a moment before pulling himself off of Dean's dick, a soft pop noise following. He collapsed next to the demon, and Dean managed to get his arms around Cas before speaking again.

" _Fuck_ , man," Dean panted at last, "you're... better than I expected."

"I have been watching humanity copulate since before you were alive, Dean," Cas answered almost immediately, his dark eyes glittering with amusement, "Don't expect me to be a _complete_ blushing virgin when it comes to desires of the flesh."

Dean shrugged and nodded amiably. "Good. I wouldn't want to have to teach you everything, y'know?" He grinned wolfishly and pressed a small nip into the crook of Castiel's neck. The fallen angel's wings fluttered softly before settling around the both of them, like big, fluffy blankets. Cas nuzzled into Dean's neck as he forced himself to sleep. 

Before Dean could succumb to sleep, he felt a shimmer within his demonic soul, or whatever the hell the gooey insides of a demon were called. He just sodomized an angel - that apparently really counted for something in the books. His eyes flickered between red and black for a moment before settling back on his familiar hazel.

 _Soon_ , he thought to himself. _Soon_.

After all, it was rude to keep family waiting - despite the fact that they thought you were dead. 


	5. Ressurection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic bliss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha. Haha. This is probably my favorite chapter ever. 
> 
> Also I'm sorry but every chapter after this (including this one haha) basically is full of allusions to their sex life, or just explicitly their sex life. WHOOPS~

"Dean, we need some more virgin's blood."

"Dude, what? I swear to God I just got some like, yesterday."

"I used it for a spell. Blasphemy doesn't bother me, you _know_ that by now."

"... You used up all of it?"

"Just get the some damned blood, so I can finish this spell."

Dean snorted as Cas looked back down to the dusty tome in his lap. The angel's blackened wings shimmered in the dim light of their apartment, glimmering like Dean's eyes were wont to - like a glittering oil spill. Of course, Dean was closer to becoming a red-eye than most people understood - he had corrupted an angel, made it into one of the best torturers save himself and Alastair (who was placed on a fucking _pedestal of honor_ after his 'mysterious' death), and committed sodomy with that exact angel. People who thought they could see his eyes take on a reddish tint were definitely not wrong.

Of course, Dean thought it best that they didn't know that. It was always good to keep one over your enemies, especially if you were a demon of Hell.

Especially if you're the demon with a fallen angel under your wing.

Ha ha, _wing_.

Dean and Cas weren't so popular among the racks. Dean knew there were plenty of demons who wanted his head on a pike and Cas' power for themselves. Crowley was probably the only red-eyes who was even somewhat amiable towards him, mostly because he was a negotiator; not a brutal killer. Well, he was a brutal killer, but he enjoyed paperwork more than bloodshed.

It didn't really matter how many kind-of friends they had, though - he had Cas, and that was all that he needed.

Dean grabbed a green denim jacket before leaving the apartment - just because it was Hell didn't mean it was always fire and brimstone. Sometimes it was goddamn _freezing_ down there. 

* * *

 

Cas heard the door close behind Dean and managed to allow a small smile to slip on his face. His demon had no idea what he had planned - this spell required a lot of blood, and Cas knew how Dean felt about sticky liquids getting everywhere. He didn't mind so much if it happened during intercourse (in fact, during those heated moments he really did enjoy getting sticky liquids everywhere), but if it was anything other than semen his demon would throw a fit.

This spell, however, would be worth it. Cas knew Dean wanted to go up to Earth; to see his old family and friends once more (it had been a few years for the humans by that point, according to Cas' sense of time), and the angel knew just how to make it _perfect_.

Dean no longer had a body, really. He kept the shape of his soul in the form of his previous human body, but it would only appear as a mass of writhing black smoke if he were to visit the surface world once more. Cas knew he would be unhappy without his original body to inhabit - after all, it was little more than liquefied bone, at this point. Becoming a fallen angel meant that Cas did lose some essential powers he used to possess, such as listening in to Heaven's Choirs and healing (well, he could no longer knit human _flesh_ back together, although for some reason he could still heal souls of their ailments), and therefore he was not able to restore Dean's corpse back to its former glory. Luckily, he had an all-encompassing knowledge of every kind of magic, and the spell he was going to preform was definitely worth it.

He and Dean had made plans to break out of Hell. Sure, the racks were nice, and it was useful to have an endless supply of souls that never died, all stretched out and just waiting to be tortured for eternity, but it got a little... boring, over the years. Dean and Cas wanted to see fresh air; to find humans and string them up; to torture with the exciting aspect of luring hunters into exquisite traps - Earth was just so much more interesting than Hell.

Cas couldn't wait to try a cheeseburger. Apparently these were a big deal with the humans (and Dean).

Of course, he knew the real reason Dean wanted to go back up.

 _Sam_.

The demon rarely mentioned his brother, but when he did it was always with an air of gratitude: if he hadn't loved Sam as much as he did, Dean would never have gone to Hell. He simply wanted to repay the favor - to become a family again.

Cas wanted whatever Dean desired. Still, it would be fun to see Samuel's reaction to Dean's greeting.

He stirred in the ingredients a little faster, and murmured words of magic that solidified his spell's power. He placed the brimstone bowl off the the side and grabbed his mortar and pestle. He grabbed the bone (he believed it was a metacarpal) of a lesser saint and began to grind it into dust. As the smell of ground bone drifted up from the mortar, Cas let out a small smile and hum of satisfaction. It was rare to see a spell working so nicely - generally there was a lot more fuss put into them - but Cas was sure to take his time with magic.

He decided the bone was ground enough after ten minutes or so, and poured it into the stone bowl.

Dean came back only a few minutes later, grinning wolfishly and holding out a glass jar of sloshing red-black blood. It was fresh, which made Cas' wings pick up in delight. "Thank you, Dean," Cas murmured as he reached out to take the bottle from the demon. Dean squinted, pushed his bottom lip out and snatched bottle in close to himself.

"What is this for, anyway?" He asked, pulling back and stalking around the fallen angel's still form. "That spell's got a lot of blood in it - you trying a resurrection?"

"Something like that," Cas shrugged, letting his coal-dark wings roll across his shoulders, nonchalant, "I'll show you if you give me one more ingredient." Dean said nothing, only continued to creep around the angel as though he was prey. Cas tried to ignore the heat that began to blossom in his lower stomach.

Cas could feel Dean press himself against his back, right in between his wings, shoving his face into the crook of his neck and taking a deep breath of air. Cas shivered as a tongue slipped out and ran up one vein that lead up to his ear. "Or I could just _make_ you tell me," the demon whispered, pulling gently at Cas' earlobe with pointed teeth. Cas whined petulantly, grinding himself against the slowly hardening pressure that pressed into his ass.

And then everything was cold, as Dean stood a good ten feet away. A knowing smirk settled upon the demon's face as he tapped two fingers thoughtfully along his chin. The jar of blood was in his other hand, and he contemplated it in a rather _Hamlet_ -esque fashion.

"So, Cas," Dean slid his eyes over to rest on the clearly aroused angel, "wanna tell me what you're doing?"

Cas flipped around, his wings puffing out with desire and his eyes wild. "A spell. For your body. Ressur- resurrection," He panted out after a moment of intense debate with himself, "need virgin's blood and - one drop. Of yours."

Dean seemed to mull over this new revelation. Cas barely restrained his arousal - he was moments away from simply projecting his thoughts for Dean to hear and see. Instead, the demon's smirk widened. Cas had to hold back a shiver as Dean crept closer with the jar, clutching it cautiously as he regarded the contents of the spell that were splayed out all over the desktop. "Will this bottle do?" He turned to Cas, jiggling it a little bit so that the blood slipped and slid from one side to the other. Cas nodded, mouth dry.

Dean carefully unscrewed the top of the jar and spilled out the slowly congealing blood into the bowl. It hissed and crackled, but Dean only smiled before using one sharp fingernail to slice into his wrist. A few drops of ruby-black blood welled up, and he shook his arm restlessly, watching in fascination as the blood flew off his arm and into the concoction.

Nothing happened for a few seconds.

Then, a flash of bright light filled the room, and both creatures of Hell covered their eyes to block it out. When they deemed it safe to open their eyes once more, both Dean and Cas were astounded by what they saw.

Dean's human body rested on the floor before them, eyes open and glassy as they stared lifelessly into the void. Dean took a careful step forward until he was face-to-face with it. "Whoa," Dean murmured after a moment, pressing one hand to the vessel's non-beating chest.

Since Cas already had his vessel, they were finally prepared to make the final ascent unto Earth.

The world definitely would never be the same.


	6. Designs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations for the topside trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is, by far, the weirdest, most disturbing thing I have ever written. Well, so far in this fic. I shouldn't doubt myself. 
> 
> For not having written unadulterated smut before, this fic sure has a fuckton of it. LOL.

Dean flexed his fingers experimentally. It had been centuries since he last had a real, physical body (despite the fact that his non-corporeal one worked just fine down below), and just the simplest twitch of a finger used so many wonderful muscles that the demon had nearly creamed his damn pants.

Of course, he still had to get to the surface, find Sammy, and then drag the kid back to Hell. Cas was coming too, of course - having a fallen angel backing you up is always a Really Good Thing. Especially when, y'know, hunters.

And when you were hunting the world's second-best hunter? Well, technically Sam was officially the world's best by that point - the only thing Dean hunted was innocent people. "So Cas - you know how to get us out, right?" Dean clarified, looking at his newly-resurrected fingernails. The fallen angel nodded, his face a dim smirk.

"You do have to unbind me, though." Cas shrugged, looking away from the demon expectantly. "I won't be able to go with you if we keep them on."

Dean knew that Cas didn't have a problem with the bindings anymore. He had kept them on for at least a century - he barely noticed them, to tell the truth. The only purpose they really served was to keep the real angels from finding him and dragging him back to Heaven, although they'd probably just kill him at this point, considering he'd fallen from grace in about every way imaginable. If Dean were to remove the bindings, they would have to find another way to keep Cas out of the other angels' hearing range.

Dean could get a spell from Crowley, but he had a better idea - honest-to-God _research_. Yuck. Still, Dean didn't want to lose Cas, so he had to sacrifice some quality time to keep his angel safe.

He searched for the right tomes for a surprisingly short amount of time. A couple months, really - no big deal for a demon of his stature. He brought them back to Cas, who smiled, congratulatory, and took it out of the demon's hands. Good thing Cas could still read Enochian, since Dean had no idea how to even understand the ass-backwards language of the angels.

As the angel flipped through the musty old book, Dean took to scrying upon little Sammy-boy.

To say he was disgusted (and a little bit proud) was a bit of an understatement. There Sam was, in the passionate embrace of a woman - _Ruby_. It didn't matter that she was wearing a different meatsuit, because the writhing mass of ugly demonic energy was so _her_. Sammy's lips were stained red with inky blood; peeled back in a victorious grin as he pounded into the two-bit demon whore. Dean really didn't know whether to hit him on the back of the head for fucking Ruby, of all demons, or to let Sam keep drinking her blood. It definitely worked for him: his eyes were just a shade darker, and his smile just a tad more feral than Dean remembered.

He'd have to thank Ruby for making his job easier before ganking the bitch.

Cas tapped him on the shoulder, tome open to a specific page in one hand. "I have the ritual," he explained, "but it requires some permanent scarring of my vessel's flesh."

"I'm good at scarring," Dean leered provocatively at his angel. "Let me see, what do you need carved in?"

He looked at the delicately-drawn picture that took up the entire page. It didn't look too deep, but the demon definitely felt a thrill at the prospect of carving such a beautiful design into Cas' chest. Once it healed over he would love the new handholds. "C'mon then, what are we waiting for?" 

* * *

Cas was stretched out on their bed, reaching his arms out past his head and spreading his large wings on either side of the bed; a lazy cat's grin directed at his demon.

His chest was covered in freshly-printed love bites and already-healing shallow cuts in his skin. His lips were red and swollen. Dean sat straddled upon Cas' chest, cradling his knife in one hand and bearing similar marks himself.

When he made the first official cut into Cas' skin and the glowing black blood seeped out, Dean had to restrain himself from lapping it up like the sick bastard he was. He could smell Cas' angel blood - a heady, thick scent, like chocolate and smoke. Dean was really having a hard time not just shredding into his angel's skin and fucking Cas senseless, so he just bit his lower lip, steeled himself, and continued to carve out a new form of possession on his lover.

Once he was finished, he would be allowed to clean off his angel. He just needed to be patient, that was all.

A few more slices later and blood was freely spilling from Cas; staining their bedsheets and making a general mess - however, the angel only groaned and bucked his hips, searching for the friction that Dean willingly gave up. Pain and pleasure were one and the same, for these two. Dean managed to keep his hand steady even as pleasure rolled through him. Cas' hands were gripping his shoulders tightly, leaving bloody, crescent-shaped indents in his own skin.

Eventually, after hours of cutting and slicing and carving, Dean's work was done. He leaned back to inspect his art - oh, _yes_. It was absolutely beautiful.

Enochian letters blossomed out across Cas' chest, stretching out to the far sides of his stomach and curling back again. It screamed of ownership, and Dean felt a small thrill at this mark of beauty. Blood still matted his angel's chest, however, so Dean did the only reasonable thing left. Leaning back down, he took a fistful of Cas' sweat-matted dark hair in one hand and rested his chin on Cas' chest. He looked into the striking azure eyes for just a moment before he turned his head down and slowly began to suck the black, smoky-chocolate blood into his mouth and swallow it down.

  
 _God_ , it felt - oh, there were no words to explain the exciting rush of power he got as he cleaned up the mess on Cas' chest. Dean managed to take his time there, although the fire pulsing through his veins demanded he slick up his fingers with blood and use it to fuck Cas into the matted sheets, until the both of them were tired and bloody and sated. 

Well, he did give into the fiery passion eventually. At that time, however, he simply continued to lick and suck and nibble to his shriveled-up heart's content.

Later on in that endless night, as they finally wore each other out, Dean's eyes flickered between black, red, black, red, black-

His eyes flashed a brilliant ruby shade, and then returned to his human hazel.

After that big-ass promotion? Yeah, this was gonna be the trip of his _life_. 


	7. Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Topside adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly filler to prepare us for the next bit of good stuff.  
> And today this fic became twice as long as I had originally planned. WOO!   
> Although, I almost had a terrible scare last night - iPad crashed, and I lost everything. THANK JESUS MY COMPY BACKED UP MY FILES BEFORE IPAD CRASHED.

At last, the time had come. After years of planning and preparing, Dean and Cas were prepared to make the trip up to Earth. Where the _living_ humans resided.

Where Sammy waited; searching for the one who sent Dean to Hell. Lilith was her name, right? Dean really didn't care about her at that point - to be honest, he wanted to thank her for giving him this opportunity. He would still kill her, of course.

Cas had spent somewhere around fifteen years searching for a crack in the endless dimension of Hell. He found it, of course - he always was so _good_ at finding things.

They stood before it, staring down the intimidating slice of freedom cautiously. Other demons could be out, after all - and neither Dean nor Cas wanted some asshole to see them slipping out of Hell. He knocked his hand against Cas', asking a silent question. The fallen angel nodded, his gaze fixed on the glowing crevice that led to their new family.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Dean said at last, breaking the cool silence between them. Cas did not speak, instead responding by taking a small step forward. His hand reached out to touch the light that gleamed ever-so-softly in the darkness.

Sure, Hell was boundless, but there were still walls in between dimensions. Hell wasn't 'down below' so much as 'directly next to' Earth.

Dean followed Cas, step for step, until they were nearly flush against the wall. Cas rested his hand on the glowing crevice, and with a burst of dark power, blasted through dimensions. Dean and Cas tumbled through the full-blown hole in Hell's wall, and found themselves in a large, exquisite house. Dean nearly vomited on the spot - the smell of privileged middle class humans was _disgusting_. He wanted to find whoever owned that house and spill their entrails all over the pristine white walls; to fuck Cas in every possible way on every possible surface, just to anoint this place under blood and sex and pain - the claiming flag of Hell.

Instead, he and his angel slipped out unnoticed and made their way to the nearest motel. "So, where did your wings go?" Dean asked after looking back and realizing his favorite appendages (besides the obvious one) were missing. Cas shrugged. "I can hide my wings on this dimension, if I want to. I thought it would be easier to travel without them." Dean frowned and nodded.

He preferred Cas with wings, to be honest.

Of course, they anointed their motel room almost immediately. A job well done deserved a damn good round of sex, right?

Of course, that was when Cas brought his wings back.

Later that day (wow, to actually talk about days and nights as though there was some difference between them), Dean pulled out his scrying bowl and grabbed some redneck trucker who had eyed him oddly at the diner close to the motel. He saw Sammy - luckily not having sex with Ruby. Instead, he was cutting the head off of a vampire. _Nice work, Sammy-boy!_

Dean returned to Cas with a grin. "So, Cas, got any plans for the rest of the day? Cuz I just found Sam, and we should be getting him back as soon as possible."

Cas just tilted his head, a quality that Dean could only find absolutely adorable (which was weird, considering the fact that their relationship was anything but), and nodded. "Where is your brother? I can still fly, us there, you know."

Dean rattled off the town (Springfield, Illinois) while Cas reached towards Dean with one hand, two fingers extended before the others.

Dean blinked.

And suddenly they were in Springfield, Illinois. "Dude," Dean murmured as he pulled Cas up for a kiss, "that's fuckin' awesome."

"We have work to do, Dean," his angel muttered against Dean's lips, "so we best- best get going-" of course, the demon's priorities had changed within the half-second it took to get from Michigan to Illinois. And if the demon's priorities changed, Cas had no way of stopping himself from following along.

It was that kind of thinking that Dean loved. He growled hungrily into Cas' mouth, and Cas' hands found acceptable hand-holds in Dean's hair. They stood there for a moment, kissing passionately and battling with tongues and teeth. They were enjoying the freedom of it all - most demons in Hell wouldn't even spare them a passing glance, but the few who were greedy; more power hungry; jealous - those ones would glare and snap at the two, and force them apart as much as possible.

During the few months that Dean was a red-eye in Hell, the other, more jaded demons met their horrific demise if they tried to break him and Cas up. Others eventually got the hint and stopped trying, so for a few short weeks they were able to be together without freaking out over dumbass demons who tried to win Cas over with promises of twice the gore; twice the rank; twice the sex. Obviously Cas would have none of it, but that didn't stop Dean from feeling jealous.

"Let me scry on the kid one more time, okay?" Dean asked once they got settled into the second motel of the day. They would have to be sure to pick a place with few other inhabitants - killing the motel manager instead of paying was cheaper, but a little bit more trouble than its worth. Cas shrugged and told the demon to be careful, to which he replied with a simple smirk and a kiss.

What Dean saw this time was a little bit terrifying, to say the least. Sam's hand was clenched as he stared down some demon - oh, was that _Jerry_? It totally was!

But Jerry was - uh - compromised. Meaning, Sam looked like he was about to choke the life out of the demon... from _ten feet away_. Holy _shit_.

Jerry's meatsuit (a young woman with brunette hair) coughed violently, and suddenly Jerry was pouring out of her mouth. Like she was vomiting him up. Jerry's swirling vortex of demon-ness burned straight through the floor and right down to - well, that was obvious.

Ew, that was so freakin' gross. But Sammy only clenched his fist tighter, and the meatsuit collapsed onto the ground. Jerry was - what, banished? It didn't matter, though - because suddenly _holy shit Sammy could send me back to Hell with a brain-twitch what the fuck_.

Dean returned to Cas with a sullen expression. "What's wrong?" The angel asked absently, holding a wing out and cleaning it from some extra blood spatter he had missed during an earlier round of sport.

"Looks like Sammy has, uh, been working on his demon-mojo."

"And?" Cas fixed him with a bored glare.

"It used to be only small stuff - seeing the future and stuff, y'know? But, ah, it's a little more...." the demon bit his lip and decided that his feet really were more interesting than anything going on at the moment. _Wow_ , he had nice shoes.

"Dean, tell me what's wrong or I'll assume the worst and head back home."

"He can send us back to Hell, okay? With like, his mind."

There was an odd silence for a moment. Dean looked up and saw Cas giving him a deeply amused smile. "So then don't tell him you're a demon."

Dean fell back on the bed, exasperated. "And you don't think I already thought of that? He'd test me out, dude."

"You do remember I'm still considered an angel, right?" Cas countered, quirking one eyebrow. "Those tests don't have to work if I don't want them to."

Just like that, Cas was and always would be Dean's favorite person in the world. The demon grabbed the angel by the lapels of his coat and smashed their mouths together. "You sure," Dean breathed, "that'll work?"

"Shut up and fuck me, Dean."

Dean definitely didn't object to that.


	8. Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam wasn't in the best of moods. 
> 
> He so wasn't ready to see his brother after years without him, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thiS IS MY FAVORITE CHAPTER I SWEAR TO JESUS. 
> 
> Also I admit I am an italics whore, I'm sorry about that except that I'm not really sorry at all.

Sam Winchester was _not_ having a good day. First, the Impala started making this rattling noise - he suspected it was the damn Legos that Dean had crammed in there as a kid - and he had no idea how to fix it (get rid of the Legos). Why the hell had Dean put them back in there when he rebuilt the car, anyways?

Of course, thinking of Dean brought on a wave of nostalgia, and that wave of nostalgia evolved to anger at Lilith, Dean, himself, Dad, and pretty much everyone Sam had ever talked to in his entire life.

Then, the vics he inspected at the morgue were barely strung-together corpses (all three were empty of blood, fucking _wonderful_ ), and one had a ruptured spleen that just freaking exploded all over his suit. That was only the first three hours of his day, to boot.

To top it off, he hadn't seen Ruby in about a week, and he was beginning to feel really twitchy. He sent a demon back to Hell the other day and nearly collapsed afterwards.

All in all, he was in a terrible mood. He was tired, powerless, and smelled like rotten bodily fluids.

So when he opened the door to his motel room and was confronted with his brother's face and some other man he didn't know, Sam had had enough. "No," he growled, brandishing the demon-killing knife from his suit, "today is _so_ not a good day for this."

The demon (or shifter, or whatever) that looked like Dean held his hands up in surrender, his face obnoxiously twisting into the one that Dean would wear when he got tired of Sam's crap. "Whoa! Whoa, Sammy, calm down there-"

" _Don't call me Sammy!_ " The hunter snarled, lurching for the demon before it had a chance to psychic-power him into the wall. The demon-Dean shared a quick look at the other demon guy, who reached out and touched demon-Dean on the forehead, and then- _what?_ Sam turned around, confused, only to see Dean's disappointed gaze staring up at him from the other side of the room.

He was sitting at the small table in the corner of the room. Blue-Eyes was standing right next to him. Sam was really, _really_ confused.

"God, Sam - it's really me, okay?" Dean grumbled, holding out one arm apologetically. Sam stared at it for a moment before getting the picture. He quickly pulled out a vial of holy water and poured it on to Dean's waiting arm. Sam looked up to the thing that was _maybe_ a demon but possibly some other supernatural son of a bitch, and was not surprised to see a nervous glint in its eye. It craned its neck to get a good look at the other creature, who had suddenly become a freakin' stone or something and refused to respond to anything Sam said to him.

Fed up with this turn of events, Sam plunged his knife into the shoulder of the demon who didn't have Dean's face. He only needed one of them for questioning, and Blue-Eyes definitely freaked Sam out. He had that kind of otherworldly aura that not many demons had, and it worried Sam.

The creature barely gave the knife a response. He looked down at it with an almost amused twitch of his lips and pulled it from his chest like one would a piece of stray hair. He dropped it to the ground and tilted his head at the hunter. "So - _this_ is your brother?"

"Yeah, he's kind of dense sometimes, but then again isn't that kinda charming?" Dean smirked up at the other man, wiggling out his arm to test it for any damage. Before Sam could protest, Dean continued - "He's smart, though. Won't have much time before he gets it."

"First: what the hell are you guys talking about?" Sam barked, not surprising either of the other men (although he had hoped to at least get Stony McGee to jump a little bit). "Second," he gave a pointed glare to the blue-eyed man who seemed to have such a special, _profound_ bond with the creature that looked like Sam's brother, "who are _you_?"

Not moving from the chair, Dean smirked and winked up at Blue-Eyes. "Tell 'em, Cas. Tell Sammy how you-" Dean fluttered his eyes quickly and raised his voice nearly an octave higher, "- _saved_ me, huh?"

The man (known as Cas, apparently) affectionately touched one hand to Dean's cheek, and Dean leaned in to the touch, and Sam knew that there was no way that thing was his brother because _Dean did not do gay things_. Ever.

Cas cleared his throat and rumbled, "I gripped Dean tight and raised him from Perdition."

Oh... okay. "What."

"Cas here's an _angel_ , Sammy!" Dean exclaimed with mock enthusiasm, and _wow_ for a creature that didn't know Dean was a homophobic asshole, he sure knew how to play Dean well. "Sure did grip me _tight_ , didn't ya?" Dean freaking beamed at Cas, and once again nope, there was no way this was Dean.

"I don't think your brother believes you," Cas grunted after a tense moment of silence, "you told me it wouldn't be that hard to convince him you are alive."

"Sorry, Cas - I don't know what to say. I guess it's been a while, huh?" The creature with Sam's brother's face grinned bitterly and shrugged. "Maybe it's been too long since we last talked?"

"I believe it has to do with the fact that Sam doesn't believe you would willingly engage in sexual interactions with me."

Were they _seriously_ having that conversation. _Jesus_.

"Awh, Sammy! Guess you didn't get the memo - after some intense thought, I realized I bat for both teams." Sam would have been okay with that, except for the _look_ that he gave Cas. It was dark and sultry, and Sam felt like he was beinf kept out of some hilarious cosmic joke. "Well, at the moment I'm only bangin' one person." He gestured with one hand to Cas, who fucking _smirked_ like the total asshole he probably was.

Hiding a grimace, Sam shrugged and nodded amiably. "That's... nice. Sweet," he added with a small, uncomfortable grin. "So, how long have you been - uh-"

"A thing?" Dean finished for him. Sam nodded. He wasn't sure if he wanted to believe any of this or not - it was just too surreal. "Oh, we don't really keep track - feels like _hundreds of years_ , don't it, Cas?" Dean patted the supposed angel on the knee, emphasizing the 'hundreds of years' part pretty obviously. Cas did that little eye-smile thing again and nodded.

So this was definitely more than a little weird. "I still have to test you and your... boyfriend out, so don't go anywhere." Sam fixed a nervous I'm-really-fucking-confused glare at Dean, who chuckled and nodded at him.

A silver knife, a shot glass of holy water, and a mouthful of salt later; Sam was collapsing in the chair across the table from Dean. "How?" Was all the hunter managed to get out. Maybe his day wasn't as bad as he originally thought.

"I've already said it all, Sammy." Dean grinned wolfishly. Sam felt a shiver race up his spine - had Dean always looked that feral? But... the tests _worked_. He was as human as could be, and Cas... well, he wasn't a shifter, or a demon, or a ghost, but he sure as hell wasn't human.

"I suggest we help you with this hunt," Cas finally spoke up after a while, "so you can re-integrate yourselves into the other's life."

Sam furrowed his brows and tilted his head at Cas. Who was he to try and run their lives?

"We're kind of on a tight schedule, man - think we got time for a hunt?" Dean looked up at the angel, and Sam swore he could see a malignant spark in his brother's eye. Cas nodded, obviously not a fan of talking too much. Wonderful. 

"All right, let's get freaky." Dean said with a flourish, finally getting up from his seat. "Cas and I are staying at another motel - just call us when you're ready to go." He handed Sam a piece of paper with a phone number on it and grabbed Cas' shoulder. With a flirtatious wink and a ruffle of feathers, they were gone.

Sam placed his head in his hands. What was his life anymore?

He just hoped Ruby would stop by soon.


	9. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plotting for Sam's demise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More smut.   
> Also a bit fucked up. Because, well. Yeah.

"You think he'll catch on to us?" Cas asked as soon as they got back to their room. The cops hadn't been called in yet - obviously there weren't many people in the motel. That was good; Cas didn't really want to leave the place just yet. It was kind of quaint: the bible on the bedside table, the light blue walls, the small statue of Christ on the cross that stared on as Dean chuckled quietly.

"No, that's the thing about Sam - he's too trusting." The demon smirked, inspecting one meatsuited hand closely. Then he was pushing Cas into a wall, and shoving his face into the crook of Cas' neck. "We'll be sure to burn that right outta him, won't we?" He snarled into his angel's throat. "Make sure he doesn't trust _anyone_."

Cas whined desperately, clawing at Dean's spine and ripping the shirt Dean had picked especially for the occasion of meeting Sam. "What do you suggest we-" Cas' breath hitched as Dean softly sunk his teeth into the junction of where his shoulder met his neck "- suggest we do to him?"

"We're gonna go on this stupid hunt with him," the demon whispered as he left kisses trailing up his angel's throat, laving his pink tongue on the dead skin of Cas' vessel, "and once we're done, we'll bring him back home, kicking and screaming - just how you like it."

And _damn_ , did Cas like it. The angel bucked his hips into Dean's, a frantic whimper beating its way out of his mouth before Dean smothered the noise with his kisses. At one point the demon got a little rowdy and bit a little too hard, but the taste of blood in their mouths only added to the eroticism of it all. "Which chains will we use on him?" Cas nearly begged against Dean's plump lips, enjoying this just as much as an ex-angel of the Lord should.

"We'll use those iron ones - you know, the ones we used to chain you to the bed that one time," Dean growled, suddenly violent as he ripped open Cas' shirt, sending buttons flying everywhere. A button decked Dean's nose, but neither beast paid attention to it. Cas let out a breathy moan as Dean raced his hands over his bare chest, flitting over the new scars with beauteous interest. Cas looked into Dean's eyes and nearly melted right on the spot - his demon's eyes were so intent on the raised flesh of Cas' chest that they had unknowingly switched colors. Passionate ruby eyes feasted on Cas flesh, and the angel shivered beneath them.

"What will you use first?" Cas growled, restraining himself with sheer willpower. It took all Cas had not to moan as loud as angelically possible when Dean's hot tongue suddenly began tracing his 'artwork'.

"I was thinking," Dean murmured between licks, "about the..." he nipped delicately at Cas' hipbone, causing the angel to yelp out and thrust forward on instinct, "... the whip, might be a good start," and then Dean was back to sucking at Cas' scars, leaving mottled red and purple bruises along the angel's skin. "What do you think?" He glanced up from his work and regarded Cas with laughing red eyes.

" _Really_?" Cas managed to mangle out, "I was thinking - _ngh_ ," Dean was definitely listening, but obviously decided it would be more fun to watch Cas try to talk when his dick was in Dean's mouth. The demon began to fumble with Cas' belt as the angel struggled to speak. Cas dropped his head back, ignoring the sharp pain that rang through his head as it hit the wall with great force. "I was thinking about the - _ah_ , the-"

"You trying to say something, babe?" Dean chuckled as he held Cas' cock in one hand. "Better _come_ out with it soon," the demon grinned as he licked at the slit, "so I can _swallow_ up all your words of wisdom."

Before Cas could say _that sucked, Dean, don't even try to make sexual innuendos ever again_ , the demon was sucking him into his mouth and Cas couldn't even spare his brain to think of anything other than the rough tongue sliding over his shaft and the hands that cradled his balls. Oh, _Father_.

Sometimes, when they were together like they were at that moment, Dean would use his (extremely skillful) tongue to have Cas on the edge within seconds. Other times, he would spend hours just lazily tasting and exploring - after all, a demon's sense of time was rather skewed - but this time was... different. Dean was exploring along the edges of his member, sure, but there was a new edge to it. Perhaps it was the human dimension actually getting to him.

Whatever it was, Cas loved it. He came relatively quickly, breathing in short, hurried gasps as Dean swallowed down his fluids. A lazy cat smile had stretched itself upon Dean's lips, and Cas could still feel faint twitches of arousal as he noticed the thin lines of semen stretching from his spent dick to his demon's smirking mouth, like tiny strings between them. Without a second's pause, he hauled Dean up to see face-to-face with Cas and kissed his demon with abandon. Dean tasted exquisite - like smoke and leather and cherries, all with the tangy afterthought of Cas' spent fluids.

Dean pulled away after a moment; mocking smile gracing his features. "So, Cas - you were saying?" He blinked innocent, no longer red eyes at the angel, and Cas suddenly remembered that the damn _bastard_ had distracted him from discussing torture. The cheeky demon winked as soon as Cas figured it out, and Cas hated that he could only find a warm amusement settling in his bones at the sight of the flirtation.

"I was _saying_ ," the angel grumbled after a moment of agreeable silence, "that I thought you could use the more emotional method first - from what I remember of the Host, Azazel killed his lover, correct?"

Dean _hmm_ 'ed, tapping at his chin thoughtfully as he digested the information. "Making him think of Jess, huh? Devious," he grinned at last, a near-purr rumbling through him as he began to think more, "but I think I know of something that's even _worse_."

Cas tilted his head and asked the obvious, "What are you planning?" question, but Dean merely shook his head and let a wicked smile curve into his perfect features.

Cas was glad that he was not on the other end of Dean's far-off gaze.


	10. Threats and Inconveniences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby gets suspicious. Dean still gets a blowjob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't tell how I feel about Ruby, that's okay - I'm not really sure either.

Sam called Dean later that day, asking to meet at a coffee shop not too far from his motel. Dean told him to be there at twelve o'clock with a smile and slice of pie, mentioned something about being whipped - although literally or figuratively Sam couldn't determine, and wasn't _that_ a nice thought - and then hung up. He sighed heavily and turned to look at the brunette woman who sat in his bed.

"What's the matter, Sam?" Ruby asked, leaning back on her elbows.

"It's, uh - remember Dean?" Stupid question. _Of course_ she remembered Dean - he was the only reason she stayed with Sam. She still said he needed somebody to look after him; to teach him how to harness his powers. Ruby nodded, furrowing her brow. "Well, some angel or something pulled him out of Hell and they just decided to drop in yesterday. And they were... _together_. Like, awkward-cute-private-joke-sharing together."

Ruby completely froze at Sam's words. Her chocolate eyes widened substantially and a small gasp echoed from her throat. "I need to, uh -" she hopped out of the bed and began to pick up her scattered clothes, mumbling to herself as she went along "- check on something." She finished with a flourish, gathering up all the clothes to her chest and quickly slipping them on. As soon as the second boot was on her foot, she disappeared with the words "Don't do anything stupid!" on her lips.

..... Okay. That was comforting. Sam sighed again and shuffled over to his still-relatively-packed bag, pulling out his clothes for the day. The people in his life were just getting weirder and weirder.

* * *

So, Dean and Cas were in the middle of this _thing_. And this _thing_ may or may not have involved Dean's dick in Cas' mouth. And also it may have been almost over, since damn Cas was fucking magical with his tongue, and they had to go meet Sam and continue this stupid hunt with him in a little bit.

But then fucking _Ruby_ decided to drop in _right in the middle of Dean's goddamn blowjob_.

It interrupted Cas' pace for only a second, however, and then the angel kept on going - what a brave little soldier. Dean would have to reward him later - when dumbass demons weren't deciding to visit, of course.

The demon bitch looked on, dispassionate as Dean thoroughly began fucking the angel's mouth. He came with a deep groan, and Cas swallowed it down. Oh, he was so _good_. Dean pulled his dick out of Cas' mouth and immediately lost the I-just-had-sex face for the why-the-fuck-do-you-exist face he saved especially for Ruby.

"Hot," she noted after a tense silence. "So, you mind telling me what you're doing here? And uh, why you're a _demon_?"

Cas growled at her, unfurling his pitch wings from the other dimension and flaring them out aggressively. The demon flinched at sight of the wings, breath harsh and ragged in her throat. "How-"

"You remember Alastair, don't you?" Dean asked, his tone a sweet melody compared to the angel's furious rasping, "Well, he gave me Cas. And I made him _beautiful_." The angel in question stood up, reached out to touch Dean, and suddenly the demon had pants on. That was all Cas seemed to do with his mojo, because they were both still kinda shirtless. Dean flicked his eyes over to Ruby, a small smile twitching at his lips.

Dean knew she was staring at the Enochian symbols all over his angel's chest, and felt a thrill of pride when her eyes flickered with fear. "I may not be as old as you are, _Rubes_ ," Dean smirked, flashing deviously red eyes at her, "but I'm definitely the stronger one here, don't you think?"

He didn't even bother to acknowledge her nod of confirmation. "So if you mention _any_ of this to Sammy, I'll send you so far down into Hell that you couldn't possibly crawl your way back up." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Or I'll just have you strung up on our rack." He grinned at Cas, who's wings fluttered excitedly at the prospect. Ruby blanched, as she should. She gathered control over herself after a moment and full-on glared at Dean, which really was adorable considering the fact that he could rip her in half with the twitch of a finger.

"What are you going to do with him?" Ruby glowered, obviously not talking about Cas, and Dean knew she was wishing for that damn demon-killing knife she undoubtedly left with Sam.

"Why should I tell you?" Dean shot back. "I hardly trusted you when I was human; what makes you think I'd even trust you to get my _coffee_ now that I'm all to comfortable with what a demon is?"

Demon Bitch directed her glare to Cas. "You seem pretty trustworthy of that guy," she tilted her head, "Is he a _special snowflake_ compared to everyone else?"

"Yeah, actually," Dean grumbled, "he's a lot more trustworthy than anyone I've talked to in the last twenty-four hours." He laid one hand on the angel's shoulder, to which Cas nodded silently and flared his wings out once more. "So it's time for you to get out of here before I sic my angel on you." He grinned toothily at her, and as Ruby's eyes widened Cas took a step forward. "Got it, sweetcheeks? Then _scram_!"

Ruby was gone before Cas could take another step further. His wings dropped to the floor and he turned to face Dean, dry amusement lighting up his eyes. "I think we scared her accordingly," the angel murmured, returning to Dean and leaning in close, "but I don't think we have enough time to continue our earlier entertainment."

"Don't worry, Cas - we've got all the time in the world. As soon as Sammy settles in at home, y'know." Dean flashed an impromptu grin at Cas, who's lips twitched into a small smile.

"I suppose you're right," Cas agreed, "although we do still need to get him back home - how do you suggest we do that, huh? Tie a plaid shirt on the end of a fishing line and dangle it in front of his nose?"

Dean snickered at the image, and kissed Cas so gently that one might confuse his feelings for something much softer than he was actually capable of. "I like the way you think, but that wouldn't do the trick. No, we gotta go with something a bit more... _earth-shattering_ , y'know?"

"I'm listening," Cas responded, his eyes glittering like sapphire flames. Dean's responding leer conveyed every filthy thought Dean could possibly think of when looking into those Godforsaken - _literally!_ \- orbs.

"You've got a little more mojo than the normal run 'o the mill demon, right?" Dean began, smiling innocently at the angel's answering nod. "Good - you can change your meatsuit's appearance, too - right?"

At Cas' second nod, Dean's smile curved upwards wickedly, and his eyes glimmered fiercely. "Good," the demon murmured quietly, "this is all gonna work out _awesome_."


	11. Coffee Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demon, fallen angel and hunter bonding. Kind of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention how ridiculously hard it is to write endings????   
> Four more chapters 'till the end, just FYI! 
> 
> Also this was late because I was at stage crew all day and almost forgot omfg i'M SORRY

The coffee shop had _really_ shitty coffee, Cas thought to himself as he brought the steaming cup to his lips and took a cautious sip. Sure, burning his tongue wasn't really a big deal, but when it was burned things tasted weird in his mouth, and he wanted to taste things as much as possible while they were on break from Hell.

Cas had lived a very depraved existence before encountering Dean. It was as though before the demon he had lived a life of glimmering white nothingness, and as soon as the demon stuck that first knife into his vessel's flesh, his world erupted into _sounds_ and _colors_ and _feelings_. Chaos, to put it bluntly.

But _oh_ , what Heaven that chaos was. Before, it had been the pristine choirs of the Heavenly Host; after, it was the chorus of ragged throats flayed raw with the efforts of screaming. Before, it was pure white and gold and nothing but cleanliness and devotion to an ever-absent Father; after, it was an explosion of reds and blacks and blood and devotion to no beast but yourself (and Dean, _always_ Dean). Before, there was nothing. After, there was everything.

Still. There were more important things at hand rather than reminiscing about times long past.

Shitty coffee, _right_. Cas flicked his eyes over to see Dean perched at the other end of the table, head in one hand and in deep thought.

Ever since they had broken through to the Earthly dimension, Dean had been... distant. Darker. Not that Cas was complaining, but he still didn't really like being kept out of his demon's plans.

Cas sighed into his cup and scoped out the shop once more. There were no excitable children waiting for a hot chocolate or other sweet (which was awesome, because Cas _hated_ children), and the only other people in the little place were a couple of hipsters that looked like they had gotten a little too drunk at their refined rave or whatever hipsters did late at night. Cas snorted as one of the young men pulled down his overly-large aviators and tried to glare at him.

The bell above the door jingled, signaling a new customer. Cas ignored his new friend in favor of taking note of the behemoth that ambled through the glass door.

Ah, there Sam was - right on time, actually. Cas waved him over, and Dean plastered a look of pleased indifference to his face. "Sammy!" He called out, grinning with that sickeningly sweet human glint in his eyes.

Sam made his way over and greeted them with a nervous smile. "Hey guys," he grunted, "I'm going to go get a cup of coffee first, okay?" Dean let him go with a nod while Cas grinned.

"Coffee's shit, Sam!" The angel called out after him. He ignored the heated glares from the hipsters and the baristas in favor of flashing a knowing smirk at Dean.

"You're not too angelic, Cas," the demon snorted, "might wanna turn up the holy-meter so Sam doesn't get too suspicious."

Cas shrugged, his wingless shoulders bobbing up and down as a twisted smile crept across his face. "Are you sure it's to keep Sam in the dark," he leaned ever-so-closer on one elbow, eyes darkened with sick enjoyment, "or is it to remind yourself of how far I've fallen?"

Before Dean could respond, Cas backed up substantially, letting his near-black eyes dilute until all that was left were wide sapphire irises. "Just because I couldn't raise you from Hell doesn't mean it's too late for redemption," he stared blankly ahead, "all you need is to accept my Father's forgiveness and-"

Sam plopped down beside them at the table, his own steaming cup of coffee in one hand. Cas immediately shut himself up and stiffened his spine even more. He managed to smirk at Dean using only his eyes, which luckily Sam missed - ridiculously smart nature aside, the boy _was_ rather oblivious. "So get this," the young hunter began, "there have been a couple of missing persons reports, and all of the bodies that turned up have been empty of blood. I'm thinking vampire." He spared a look at Cas, who merely blinked in response.

"It's been a while since I was on a hunt, but I'm pretty sure you're right." Dean snorted and grabbed at Cas' coffee cup, which the angel let go willingly. The demon took a small sip of it before scrunching up his face in a way that was almost adorable and spitting it all back into the container. "Damn, Cas," he spluttered, "coffee really is shit."

It was Sam's turn to give them both a disapproving glare, but the demon and fallen angel shrugged it off easily. "Should we go inspect the victims one last time before searching for the vampire?" Cas suggested after a moment, careful to show no more emotion than a tablespoon's worth.

"I bet Sam and I can find the lair, or whatever - right, Sammy?" Dean grinned as he reached out to ruffled his younger brother's hair affectionately. Cas had to hold back a smirk of his own at Sam's displeasure. The younger man was very nearly pouting, his big hazel eyes wide and droopy as he did nothing to stop Dean's teasing.

So yes, they were very much codependent on each other. Well, Sam was much more dependent on Dean at the moment. Dean had Cas, and their tiny apartment back in Hell, and a little more than a century without Sam by his side. Sam, however, had only had a few years to lessen the sting of Dean's death.

Time was a funny thing.

"So you and Sam will go search for a vampire nest," Cas clarified, tilting his head, "and I..."

"I'll call you if we need any help, how does that sound?" Dean winked flirtatiously at Cas before turning to Sam. Cas felt Dean's leg press against his from the other side of the table - a promise, it was.

"Dean, if we're in the middle of a fight to the death with a bunch of vampires, how do you think you'll be able to call Cas?" Sam fixed Dean with what Cas had heard his demon refer to as Bitchface #73, otherwise known as _Dean I am done with your bullshit._

"Cas here's an _angel_ , Sam," Dean smirked, tapping his head thoughtfully, "if you pray loud enough, he'll hear it." Cas had to strain himself a little bit to smother the shiver of excitement that traveled up his spine.

Later, when Cas was waiting for Dean to finish the menial task of finding the vampire's lair (that hipster that had glared at him had kind of set off his nerves, so why not torture the kid a bit?), Dean fulfilled his promise.

"Hey, Cas," Dean began, and the angel knew he was high on adrenaline - or at least, the demonic version of it, "found the nest. Cleaned it out." For some reason, just hearing Dean talk was enough to make Cas moan in anticipation. "'M covered in blood, you know. Wanna help... clean it off?"

With a flutter of his great, dark wings, Cas appeared by Dean's side. Sam stood off a little ways, but was still shocked to look over and see Cas right there when he hadn't been seconds before. "I have a body strung up in our room," Cas whispered, and at Dean's exasperated look Cas whined, "What? I was bored."

"You can catch your own ride home, right Sammy?" Dean called out to his younger brother. Sam nodded at the two of them, and the little brother I'm-disappointed-in-you glare sent an ice rod right up Cas' back.

No matter though, since a flap of wings and a snap of fingers later, he was closer to Heaven than he had been during thousands of millennia of existence.


	12. Enchained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's more plotting, and of course two of Heaven's rejects partaking in more sins of the flesh. It's mostly the latter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: This chapter was actually supposed to get some more plot wrapped up, but then Cas and Dean kept talking and then it turned into... this. So yeah.
> 
> Also I am updating early because a) I updated late yesterday and b) I'm sick today so why the fuck not?

"How long does it take to get back in your brother's graces?" Cas asked, exasperated. Dean shrugged, a sheepish smile creeping along his lips. It had been about two weeks back topside, and Dean knew that Cas was starting to get a little antsy. The longer they remained above, the higher the chances were of Sam finding out their little plan.

"Not long, really," the demon noted after a second, "In fact, he's probably already completely back on the Dean's-not-a-demon bandwagon now."

The glare that Cas sent him in response had Dean's spine tingling. "Don't worry, I was actually gonna tell you - we're going back home. Tonight." He definitely didn't miss the happy glow that sparked in Cas' eyes, although they were quickly replaced with a suspicious air.

"What about Robert?" Cas narrowed his eyes and flapped out his wings once with discomfort. Dean chuckled and bit in a deep breath.

"Bobby's an old codger," the demon smirked, "and I don't want my once-surrogate father nagging at me for eternity. 'Sides, I have you for all my supernatural go-to stuff. Who needs a pissy, drunkard old man?"

Cas squinted and nodded thoughtfully. "So - no detours? Straight back home, Sam kicking and screaming, right?"

"Yeah. We'll get to the old timer later." Dean chuckled, inspecting one curved nail with dry amusement. "Once Sammy's caught up with us, of course - shouldn't take too long, really. Hell, _I_ could feel the darkness in that kid."

Dean was telling the truth, though. During that bloody battle with the nest of vamps, he could almost see the damnation radiating off of the boy. It was like he hadn't taken a shower or something in a few days, except that Dean was definitely a fan of the smell of sulphur by that point. It was a little bit beautiful, actually. 

"Good," Cas' smile was small and kind of endearing, if it wasn't for the blood spattered on his jawline. Hey, it wasn't every day they had a warm body to play with - especially when the both of them were so careful not to leave a trail of corpses for other hunters to follow. Dean sneaked a look down at the mangled body of the adorable cusp-of-adulthood college student, and his lips twitched in a subtle smirk. He wiped a small bit of human flesh off of his forehead before blinking his moss-green eyes back to Cas.

"Yeah, but there's still one problem," Dean murmured, biting his lower lip as he fluttered his eyes downwards, "What are we gonna do with that demon bitch following him around?"

Cas pondered this for a moment, tapping his chin thoughtfully with long, tapered fingers that always had Dean shivering at the most inappropriate of moments. "We could just bring her along," he suggested at last, "string her up on a rack of her own and rip into her until she's loyal to _us_." He finished his statement with a shrug and a devious light in his eyes. Dean's answering smile was all teeth; strangely reminiscent to a shark's bloodthirsty grin.

"Have I told you that I love the way you think?" The demon rumbled, placing a hand on his angel's shoulder. Cas fucking _preened_ under the praise he received, his dumbass wings fluffing up with pride and twitching happily. Dean's leer gave away just how much he loved his angel's thought process.

"If we're already going to use the chains we used on me for Sam, why not anoint some new ones for her?" Cas tilted his head questionably, sending a blaze straight through Dean's demonic gooey insides and straight to his dick. The demon moaned aloud, obviously loving the thought.

Within seconds, the student's obliterated corpse was mojo'ed away and forgotten. In its place was Dean, bound to the bed with slick-looking iron chains. He was, of course, without clothes. Cas was as well, and once again Dean thanked some higher force out there that Cas retained most of his special angel mojo.

Cas straddled himself on top of Dean's hips, and the demon groaned out _filthily_ , arching his back of the bed before the restraints dug into his wrists and pulled him back. The noise of rattling chains against the bedpost clanked around the room, echoing softly in the heated air between the two.

Cas leaned over Dean, a wicked grin carving itself into his face. "You _like_ this, don't you?" The angel chuckled darkly, pushing close to bury his face into Dean's neck. Dean gasped heavily, widening his eyes almost comically as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through him. "You like it when I take control over you," he leaned in just that little bit closer to hiss into Dean's ear, "so tell me you _love_ it."

A faint tittering of noise rang out through the near-overwhelming sounds of gasping breaths and heavy grunts and the sweet, _sweet_ slick noise of sweaty skin sliding together. "Fuckin' _phone_ ," Dean barked out, "ignore it, Cas - oh, _fuck_ -"

"That's not what I want to hear, _Dean_ ," Cas growled, turning his name into a goddamn curse. Dean's answering moan was a garbled, lost sound, and Cas' only response was to sink his teeth into the base of Dean's throat. He could feel the skin tearing underneath his lover's teeth, but the demon merely moaned louder and wished he could move his arms up, if only a little bit - _fucking chains_ , man.

But Cas was right. He _did_ love it.

"Wh-what do you do if- _fuh_ \- I say it?" Dean choked out of his mouth, always willing to be a cheeky shit if the need arises.

Cas obviously knew how to play that game too, since he reached down with one hand and gripped Dean's dick tight, giving it short, fast pulls that had Dean panting helplessly as heat and passion filled him up with a low, burning fire.

Then he was freezing, and the whine that definitely did _not_ come out of his throat was a broken and mangled gasp. "I finish what I started," Cas breathed harshly, and damn it, Dean could _feel_ the smirk his angel was giving him.

Fucking cheeky _bastard_.

"Goddamn, I love it, okay? So fu- _hu_ -cking much, now _don't stop_  or I swear to God I'll rip your throat out!" Dean snarled out wildly, biting his lower lip and wishing to jesus that he could move his fucking hands - except that this was so _fucking awesome._

Dean got so lost in a haze of razing flame and _Cas_ and _Don't stop_ that it really shocked him when he came, orgasm ripping through him like a knife through a fresh soul on the rack.

Which, incidentally, was what the chains were for in the first place. With a snap of Cas' fingers, the chains restraining Dean to the bed were gone. He pulled his hands down to his face for inspection, but saw no sign of real trauma to his skin - after all, demon.

"Think we anointed that chain well enough?" He managed after a moment. His eyes flickered over to Cas, who was grinning at nothing in particular. That grin itself was absolutely adorable - even moreso since Cas had Dean's blood crusting around the edges of his pink lips, and from his pearly-white teeth.

"Perfectly," his angel responded at last, "now all that's left is to welcome some new family members." He got up and whoosh, clothed once more. Shame, really - Dean really liked him with his clothes off. "Although I wouldn't mind doing that again some time." And there it was, the flush of heat that raced through him at the prospect - _so awesome_. 

Dean finally got off the bed after a long, companionable silence and managed to pick out a decent enough outfit from the scattered clothing on the floor (some of it his, some of it Cas', and others from the victims they had managed to not-entirely destroy).

After the incredibly drab task of dressing, Dean winked into his reflection in the motel mirror and flipped around to face his angelic companion. "Ready to go?" He beamed, looking nothing at all like his true nature. "We've got a little hunter and his dumbass demon bitch to train."


	13. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is that knocking at Sam's door?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter inadvertently has the title of this fic in it, and it works really well. Considering the fact that I wrote this chapter after posting it, I'd say I'm prett fucking awesome.  
> Anyways, chapter 15 finally wrote itself and I'm angry at Cas because he forced chapter 16 to exist. WHEN WILL THEY SETTLE DOWN.   
> So yeah, enjoy this chapter! I feel bad for Sammy, haha. 
> 
> Also another early update because this is the only time today I have to update!

There was a knock at Sam's motel door.

Considering the fact that neither Dean nor Cas had called ahead, Sam grabbed the pistol he kept under his pillow and made for the door. "Who is it?" He called, feigning nonchalance.

"Uh, Sam? It's kinda cold out here..." the voice that answered nearly stopped Sam dead in his tracks. "Mind opening the door?"

"No, this is -" He opened the door with a loud slam, pointing the pistol directly into the face of the shifter or demon or _whatever the fuck_ it was. "-get out of here before I blow your brains out."

Jess' eyes widened with an almost hilarious air. "Sam - no, it's me!" Her face paled with fear, and Sam nearly fainted at the kicked-puppy look on her face. "I swear, it's really, really me. You and me - remember the day we met? It was at that coffee place. We were the only two people there, and you gave me some spare change - remember?" She looked almost frantic, as if Sam could _ever_ forget the day they met. Sam stood at the door, shellshocked, as Jess pushed her way inside and shouldered the large hunter out of the way. "Damn, when did you get so _tall_?" She asked, incredulous.

Sam didn't know whether to blush, shoot her or throw up. Some strange mixture of all three options danced through his head like tipsy, cursed ballet shoes. "I guess it's just one of those things," he said after a while, softly blinking at her. What the hell was he saying?

He was a little out of his depth there, you gotta admit. So he was pretty shocked when the sound of a palm smacking skin filled the air of the tiny motel room, and a sting burned its way onto his face. He brought one (dangerously gigantic, he thought to himself) hand up to his face and gawked at the tingle of pain that erupted from his light, feathery touch. That was the deciding factor in his emotional breakdown - nobody could slap like his Jess could. "Idiot," she hissed, "Why the hell would you think I was some kind of monster, huh?"

His snappish answer of "Probably because that's exactly what a monster would show up looking like if they wanted to kill me," was swallowed underneath the overwhelming urge to _touch_ her. So instead of snarking and getting into a fight that would probably the most memorable one they'd ever had, he enveloped her tiny frame in a breathless hug. "I'm _so_ sorry, Jess," Sam murmured into her hair, "you didn't deserve that -"

"Shut up, Sam. Didn't I tell you you'd crash and burn without my help?" She pulled back and eyed Sam with what could only be described as downtrodden happiness. "Look at yourself, Sam. I couldn't just _leave_ you like this."

Sam's heart nearly ripped in two as Jess leaned up on her toes to peck at the corner of his mouth. "Jess, I..."

"Shh, baby," she intoned, and despite the twinge in his gut Sam said nothing, "We'll make it better, okay? We can be a family. Just trust me." With that, she she whirled her way out of Sam's embrace and began whizzing about the room, picking up stray clothes and the gun that had been dropped to the floor sometime during his bear hug. "First, we need to get all this stuff packed away and ready to go."

Sam stood there like a dead weight, watching his dead girlfriend clean up all of his things - which, sadly enough, was sparsely decorating the room as it was. At most it was a shirt haphazardly thrown on the bed frame, and a pair of pants that rested on his bed. He still wasn't wearing shoes, so they were right by the side of the bed like two dutiful soldiers standing at attention. Everything else was in his bag or in the bathroom.

Instead of watching her get the toiletries he had, he forced himself to move with barely any grace at all. He stumbled into the bathroom with a dazed, fuzzy feeling beginning to wrap around him, as though someone was tying him up within a big, thick blanket. He grabbed the toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush and hair gel ( _shut up_ , he had a lot of hair), and made his way over to his bag, where Jess stood impatiently. He stuffed the aforementioned products into the bag and then slung it over his shoulder.

It was really, really weird - why was he doing whatever she asked? Sure, he loved her, and sure, he believed she was back from the dead (however he wasn't so sure she was completely human, but that didn't really bother him at this point, did it?), but still... the way he blindly began to follow her was kind of off-putting. "Where are we going?" He finally managed to ask, just as soon as they walked over the threshold of the motel door and into the grimy parking lot.

"We're going home, Sammy," Jess breathed, her eyes glittering happily, "We're going home, and then we'll be a _family_."

And that was when the warning bell set off in his head, singing out sharp peals of fear and alarm and bouncing around his brain.

Jess didn't _want_ a family. That was why she had always made fun of him for having soppy and romantic dreams - she had enough of the typical happy family life, and although she would never completely deny Sam's wishes (thus, why she moved in to his dorm eventually), she just wasn't ready for her own family life. Sam highly doubted that being dead had done anything to change that desire.

"Wait a minute, Jess-" Sam warned, hardening his eyes and preparing for a full-on confrontation, full with knives and pistols and ending with a dead body (again), but his dead girlfriend only laughed.

It was a cold laugh, and hearing it felt like his skin was being ripped off. It was dark, and hard, and it felt so wrong that Sam couldn't help but immediately fumble through his bags for the knife Ruby had left with him. A tough and calloused hand stopped him, and when he looked up he was confronted with Cas' blank expression.

Except that his eyes were _black_. Sam grunted in heavy surprise and tried to shove the angel away. Obviously that was a terrible idea, since his arms hurt like he had just run straight into a friggin' cement wall. "Like I said," Cas began again, voice still sounding like Jess' and tearing at Sam's heart so _fucking bad_ , "We'll be a family."

Sam backed away, holding out his hand and clenching his fist tight. He concentrated on the demon before him, and tried to find the demonic whorl of energy inside of his angel friend, but for some reason he couldn't find anything. There was nothing inside of the angel except for a roiling black mass of....

It definitely wasn't demon, that was for sure. But it definitely wasn't heavenly, or angelic, or sweet or stoic or blank or -

Then it hit Sam.

He was so, _so_ fucked.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean's voice popped up behind him, startling the hunter into complete silence and outrage, "time to join the club."

The he felt a pressure at the back of his head, and suddenly everything _hurt_.


	14. Rapture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back below, where the demons go...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ACTUALLY WROTE THE FINAL CHAPTER LAST NIGHT I'M LEGITIMATELY PROUD OF MYSELF~
> 
> So, yeah. I also love Sammy, how could I not add him to our happy little family? 
> 
> Also maybe rapture is one of my favorite words I'm sorry about that

Strung up on the rack was a large soul, larger than most down in Hell. Despite the darkness that rolled off of it like furious, passionate energy, it growled with good intentions and a righteous nature not seen since the Righteous Man.

Well, the Righteous Man wasn't all that righteous any more, and now wasn't that _fantastic_ foreshadowing?

The soul's head was hanging down, making as sure as possible that he could not move in order to further deepen the hooks embedded in his flesh. Therefore, he didn't see the force blacker than pitch that sneaked up to him.

"So, Sammy, what do you feel like this session?" Dean taunted, stepping up to his brother and smirking at his obvious surprise. "Cas isn't here today, he's investing time in another _project_." A shrill scream rang out through the racks, and Dean smirked - served the demon bitch right.

"What did you do with my brother?" Sam roared out, voice hoarse from all the abuse his throat had gone through. Dean threw his head back and laughed, letting the sound echo through the small private room that he was granted upon becoming a red-eye.

"I _am_ your brother, _Sammy_ ," he leered, "Or I could say that _you_ are _my_ brother. You'll understand eventually, Sam - it had to be you. It was _always_ going to be you." The demon lurked just a little closer, holding a wickedly curved scythe in one hand and a cloth in the other. "So don't be afraid to hold back, and don't forget to tell me when you start to feel something."

Sam grit his teeth as Dean began to experiment with the scythe - oh, he was in _that_ mood. He wouldn't scream until Dean got really down and dirty. "This is what I dealt with while in Hell, you know that," Dean sighed, nonchalant as he tore into his brother, "Of course, now you get to experiment it firsthand, isn't that poetic?" Another tear, another slick sound of flesh ripping, another bit-back moan of pain. "Of course, I wasn't tortured by my real brother. Sure, Alastair took on your face - and Mom's, and Dad's, and Bobby's and... well, a lot of faces. Didn't know I cared about so many people. Still, wasn't really you." The demon heaved a heavy sigh, and then gave his brother a sparkling smile.

Sam _growled_ at him, which was cute. Really cute. "See, you're special. Not many people are actually tortured by their own flesh and blood kin, right? Makes you a special snowflake."

Pulling back, Dean winked at Sam. His baby brother's hair hung limp in front of his face, sweaty and heavy with exertion. Dean's mouth was an uncharacteristic straight line as he plunged the scythe forward again. The tear of more skin and the blood that gushed out was music to the demon's ears.

As his brother's screams ripped through the dank air of Hell, intertwining with the demon bitch's voice just a rack over, a small smile twitched itself upon Dean's lips. 

* * *

"So, how are we feeling?" Cas loomed over the broken figure of Sam Winchester, who was biting into his lip so hard it bled. "Want to play?" The fallen angel held out a box cutter, simple and efficient, but Sam simply stared at it.

Cas was becoming a pro at reading people's faces, and he knew that Sam's was the face of a man who has given up completely. It wouldn't be too long before he got off the rack and finished his transfiguration. "Come _on_ ," Cas purred, leaning in close to his victim's ear, "It won't hurt, I promise." he dangled the box cutter in front of the boy, grinning at the look of utter desperation that began to dawn on his face. "And you get to see Ruby again, won't that be fun?"

It was strange, talking to the man before him like one would a lost child, but it was the only way to get things across - his spleen was literally wrapped around his rib cage, for crying out loud. Negotiating like proper psychopaths would have to wait until he healed himself up. However, Sam's face lit up at the prospect of seeing his demon lover again, and Cas had to let a small smile slide. He would make a wonderful demon. Not as fantastic as Dean - _no one_ could be as amazing as the beautiful red-eye who gave Cas life - but surely he would be his own brand of devious. Just the puppy dog face alone was sure to help him along in the big demonic scale of things, not to mention his (rather dulled at the moment) rapier wit and formidable fighting skills. Plus, it would be interesting to see how his powers manifested themselves down in Hell, since he could no longer send demons back down. Would it end up just sending them out of existence?

Cas didn't have time to answer his own question, however - Sam had snatched the box cutter out of his hand and glared at him painfully. Cas' voice was soft (for him, anyway) as he began to rip Sam off of the hooks. "You said- " Sam winced and gasped heavily as blood poured out of a wound that had slowly begun to heal on his shoulder, " -said that it wouldn't hurt!"

"I lied, that's what we do," Cas intoned after a silent moment of sliding Sam off the chains. Damn, Dean had done a fantastic job at stringing his brother up - it was, actually, rather difficult to get him off of the giant hooks. "You'll begin your training effective immediately. You want to see Ruby, right?" Cas was using his complacent voice, the one similar to the soothing melody of Jimmy Novak's voice. It seemed to work, and Sam calmed down a tiny bit.

"Where is she?" _Lord_ , he sounded like a kitten who's mother left it in the rain. Except in this case, the rain was constituted for blood and his mother had died an insurmountable amount of years ago.

"She's waiting for you - come on, let's go see her." Cas held out his hand for the newly-freed Sam to take, and once he did Cas could feel the buzz of potential demonic energy that whirled around the boy. Yes, he would make an amazing demon, and all of Hell would be there to witness the reign of the Winchesters (and their angel friend, too).

Cas led them into the rack directly next to the one Sam had been on for the past thirty-five years. It was quaint, how neither brother was able to stay on the rack for very long. Then again, he only just managed to breach forty years before giving in, and suddenly Cas cringed at the thought that Sam had almost beat him in years upon the rack. Good thing he didn't, though - he still needed to show Dean he was worthy of the demon's love.

Well, whatever strange emotion passed for love in the twisted-up world they all lived in, anyway. Obsession? Rapture?

Cas rather liked the word rapture. It was similar to the feeling he used to get when reminded of his Father, and Cas wanted to replace ever blessed, holy thought he ever had with one of blood and blaspheme. So yes, he wanted to be worthy of Dean's utter _rapture_.

Ruby lay near-bare on the rack, just like Sam had - although she was wearing some bits of cloth to save her modesty (they never went full out on neither Ruby nor Sam - it just felt _wrong_ , in a way that not many demons felt). Cas directed Sam's gaze to the defeated figure of his once-lover, and gave him a not-so-soft shove closer to the rack she was stretched out on. "Go," he whispered, "I know you want this."

Cas would be sure to mention Sam's ferocious grin as he flicked the box cutter open and began to cut away at the demon's perfectly pale skin. Surely Dean would be pleased at his brother's progress.

Maybe he'd even be rapturous.


	15. Inferno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once more, with feeling!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the last chapter.   
> This fic is actually my favorite thing... I'll be sad to see it go.

"You ready, Sammy?"

"I told you, what - a thousand times? - _Stop calling me that_."

"You know he'll never stop, right?"

"Shut up, Cas. Let the boy have _some_ hope."

"Would you three idiots stop talking for like, _one_ second so we can get out of here?"

That statement was accompanied by three different sets of baritone laughs, all deep and deceiving in their lighthearted nature. The small pouting woman by the side of the tallest man simply scoffed at their delight and turned away. The man - no, demon - beside her frowned at her discomfort and tried to placate her.

"Ruby, come on," he whined, "don't be like that!"

"I thought _you'd_ understand why we need to get out of here, but obviously you're just as thick as your brother and his dumbass gay fuckbuddy." Her dark chocolate eyes were flashing with anger, although neither of the three demons she insulted decided she was worth reprimand.

Meanwhile, their too-small cell seemed to shrink even further. A loud beep sounded out from the far end of the room, and a young man with a light blonde mop of hair walked into their space. His sea glass-green eyes were hard with anger, and his shoulders were clenched furiously. He stalked over to the bars of the cell, and stared at all four of the demons with nothing but rage in his eyes.

"The Feds won't be here until tomorrow, so you'll be sleeping in our little county cell for the night," he growled out at last, "Don't get freaky in here, or I swear to all that is holy, I _will_ shoot."

Dean pressed himself against the cell bars, winking lasciviously at the officer. "Awh, you don't wanna see what you're missing out on?" He grinned, grasping Cas by the waist and pulling the fallen angel closer to his body. "Trust me, it's a _hell_ of a ride." He accentuated this by thrusting his hips slightly against his angel's, eliciting a soft moan from the blue-eyed creature's plush lips. Still, all four of the cell's inhabitants kept a curious eye on the officer. Well, three of the gazes were curious. Ruby's was just pissed off, but then again when _wasn't_ she angry about something stupid?

The cop's eyes flared dangerously. His hands found their way to his gun holster, and held themselves at the ready in case Dean decided to do anything that was... particularly unsavory.

"You know, I am kinda ready to blow this joint. Not literally, Cas - we'll get to that later." Dean's voice was law, of course. Immediately the jail cell crackled with dark energy, and the officer before them took one cautious step back.

Then, Dean was directly in front of him, with no cell bars to separate them. "Too bad you didn't stop to smell the corpses," the demon grinned, brandishing a knife that sure as hell hadn't been in his hand before, "because now you _are_ one." 

* * *

Ruby was angry. "See what senseless killing leads to? _More senseless killing_!" She waved a hand angrily at the burning police building behind them, gesturing to the screams of trapped innocents and the snaps, crackles and pops of the flaming inferno.

"I don't see a problem with that," Cas admonished, inspecting his nails closely; looking for any extra bits of gore that could have embedded itself in his flesh. Blocking an entire police station up and then setting it ablaze wasn't as cleanly a job as one would be led to think. "I just don't like cops."

"Amen to that," Dean chuckled, swinging one arm around his fallen angel partner. "So, since the blaze-a-trail-of-destruction-to-Bobby plan worked so _freakin'_ well, what are we gonna do now?"

"He's definitely got his guard up, so we should wait a week or two before we start screwing with him," Sam admitted, scratching his chin thoughtfully, "I guess we could practice on other hunters while we wait, right?"

"I don't have a problem with that," Ruby sighed, throwing her hands up in the air, "Just don't go overboard on it, because you'll be slaughtering your own way out of a Devil's Trap - I won't help you." The demoness' left eye twitched irritably as Dean laughed maniacally.

"You're not our _mom_ , Ruby. You're the lackey we tortured into following us, _got it_? Don't go thinking you've got some _special wisdom_ to give to us," he managed to breathe out after cackling so hard, "Because, remember: Sam and I were the _best_ hunters the world has seen for a long time, and with _Cas_?" Another loud snort as Dean affectionately brushed at the stubble on his angel's chin. "No one stands a damn _chance_ against us."

Sam's response was a quick yet goofy grin in his older brother's direction, while Cas' was to lean into the touch Dean so willingly provided. A low thrumming noise hummed in the angel's throat as his stubble scratched against Dean's palm. They stood like that for a short while, until Dean pulled away and flashed an award-winning grin at the slowly collapsing building only a few paces back. "Man, I fucking _love_ this place," he breathed in a triumphant grin and whirled around, wringing his hands together excitedly. "So! Let's make a list of hunters we should see. Cas, can you get a piece of paper and a pen?"

The requested items appeared in the angel's hands, and Dean's grin grew exponentially. "Perfect," he purred, "Now. Who do we owe a visit, Sam?"

The taller demon (Cas, of course, preformed the same vessel resurrection spell for Sam, because both brothers had been so _terribly_ adamant about it) shrugged and offered a helpless look.

So much for contributing, then. Cas thought about which memories he had seen of Dean's - his father, dead. Mother, perished. Surrogate father figure was a work in progress. Brother - second best work of art (first being Cas, of course). Who else could Dean go to?

A few names of hunters flashed across his mind - Roy and Walt. The image he had of them was fuzzy; remembered from Dean's troubled childhood, most likely. They were solid and strong in the snippet of memory Dean provided Cas with. Sturdy, and they knew their way around a gun.

Those two were to be their first target, then. But who else did they know?

"Perhaps we should torture other hunters' names from them," Cas suggested openly. Sam's grin was infectious, seeing as even Ruby managed a tiny smile before the small clan of demonic entities melted into the shadows. 

* * *

The sweat that rolled off of Roy's brow was, unfortunately, one of the most interesting things Cas had noticed about this man. The swollen droplet was close to bursting into motion down the side of his face, yet it stayed right where it was, poised and ready to fall at a moment's notice. It even sparkled a small bit; reflecting the sharp color of blood and shining with the spectrum of a rainbow hidden inside.

Then the broken man heaved a shuddering breath and the spell was broken. The droplet spilled forth and raced down his cheek, leaving a ruddy track mixed into the dirt and blood that caked his face.

The fact that a bead of sweat fascinated Cas more than the tortured man himself was not a very good sign. The hunter had broken nearly immediately, his voice already hoarse from begging and shouting.

It hadn't stopped Cas from taking what he wanted, however. It was rare to find a nice body like this, and even more rare to have two of them practically stumble into your motel room with guns cocked and ready.

Roy and Walt had, to put it mildly, been shocked to find two men deep in the throes of passion when they kicked open the door. Cas had them bound and gagged within a second, and was back to keeping Dean pleasured nearly instantly. It was odd, having two human men watch (and both the men were rather uncomfortable with the idea, but Dean and Cas were demons - who _cared_?), but it was fun to see them exchange looks of horror once Dean and Cas were done with each other, and began to eye to two hunters in earnest.

So, yes, Roy was a coward. Walt would have been too, but the poor human was weaker than he let on - that, and he pissed off Ruby with some chauvinist comment about her lifestyle. It was funny when her pissy mood actually scared someone, actually. Like watching a pet cat toy with its food.

Back to Roy, yes. Within hours of torture, he broke down into hysterics and blathered on about so many hunters that Cas only bothered to take note of two in his mind.

Gwen and Christian Campbell were going to have a surprise visit soon. Very soon, if the screams Roy wailed out were any indication.

This was going to be so much _fun_.


	16. Finality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end... for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, guys! Last chapter. 
> 
> Although if you guys want to read more of my writing, I am beginning to write another AU. 
> 
> If you like sirens (the fishy kind), sharks and other marine animals - THIS AU IS FOR YOU. 
> 
> It's in the works, so it might be a while before posting, but I'll get there eventually! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, everyone! It means a lot to me that you stuck around for this silly 'ole thing.

The twisted scream of the young man was like music to Dean's ears. This kid had really bothered him when he tried to make nice earlier - kept going on about killing the fuckin' tooth fairy or something. "Why are you doing this to me?" He wailed, voice cracking and eyes bursting into tears.

Well, one eye teared up. The other was kind of... missing. A Cheshire cat's grin stretched itself onto Dean's face as he slowly dug his knife just that much deeper into the kid's flesh. "Because it's _fun_ ," he hissed into - was it Garth? - the kid's ear.

What kind of name is _Garth_?

Whatever, at least he had a nice voice. "So, got any names for us?" The knife twisted in the boy's flesh and Garth shrieked, clenching his muscles and causing his body to bleed out faster.

"I don't know any other hunters! Just- " Another grunt and hiss as Dean pulled the knife out, " - _Bobby_. Bobby Singer. He - he's the only other hunter I know." Garth whimpered as Dean leaned in closer and bared a feral smile at him. "Please d-don't kill me," he whispered, "I promise not to go after you..."

"You're cute," Dean's smile softened into something kinder, "You would make an _adorable_ demon, y'know." He stepped away from the shivering kid and made a grand gesture to the dim, dank hotel around them. Odd creaks leaked in from higher floors, and watermarks spotted the high ceilings. There was a grand staircase in the center, where a few patches of cracked stairs were cracked and pointed, like broken teeth within the staircase itself. Dean did not look at Garth as he spun around the massive room. "All pointy teeth and scary threats," he began, deepening his voice dramatically, "but you'd really be just a big fluffy puppy," his voice raised until it was a strange, sharp pitch, "I bet you'd be a _cuddler_ , wouldn't you."

"What do you want from me?" Garth wailed, throwing his one-eyed head back and sniffling heavily. "I didn't even wanna hunt- "

"Shut up," Dean sniffed, directly in front of him once more (thanks, demon mojo). The knife was stuck back into the kid's gut, and Dean's smile was thin as he bucked forward in pain. Garth's scream could probably shatter glass, if there was any around. Luckily the run-down hotel was kind of lacking in those aspects. "So, Bobby's the only guy you know, huh?" Dean leaned in to whisper once more, "I think we can make time for a little... visit."

"Does that mean you'll let me go?" Garth's voice, albeit shattered and broken, was small and hopeful. Dean's thin smile morphed into a toothy smirk.

"No," he answered, and continued slicing away. 

* * *

Bobby's house was appropriately booby trapped.

For a _demon_ , that is. Cas' lips twitched in a grim smile as he broke through each barrier the paranoid old hunter had so carefully set up. Dean and Sam followed behind, although Ruby stayed away from the whole thing - said that Bobby wasn't that important to her.

Ruby wasn't much of a family member, really. She stayed with them, sure, but that was because she had no choice. She was trained to follow or die, and apparently she still felt protective of Sam, despite his ever-lessening need for her assistance. Soon she would only be around so Sam wouldn't feel jealous when Cas and Dean went at it. He probably still felt jealous, though - the angel and the demon had some pretty mind-blowing sex, and it seemed like Ruby was rather vanilla, as far as demons go. Apparently she didn't even allow proper chains in the bedroom, much to Dean's amusement (and Sam's mortification).

With an ominous crackle (Cas' favorite kind), Bobby's front door blew off its hinges. The two demon boys appeared behind Cas, peering into the room curiously. An identical grin slid onto their faces as they looked about.

Bobby was nowhere in sight, meaning he was probably in his little 'safe' room. "Looks like we got some old hunter to scare, Sammy," Dean's wicked smirk was infectious; worming its way upon Cas' lips, as well. "Cas, you ready to blow some steel hinges?"

"Let's go," was all the fallen angel growled before vanishing with a flutter of black feathers. He knew Dean and Sam would follow - after all, they knew the old house better than Cas did.

He found himself directly in front of great steel doors, covered in demon protection sigils and devil's traps. Taking a step forward, he made the quaint symbols and scratches null against his demons. It took him a few tries to obliterate the thick steel door that stood between themselves and Bobby - after all, he had just used up a lot of his power to help the Winchesters through. It would have cost less energy to just have Cas navigate the house and bring Bobby back to them at the motel, but of course they _had_ to finish the deed within the grizzled hunter's own home. Cas would not criticize, but he honestly thought that true emotional connection, even toward victims, was completely useless.

Although the affection he held for Dean could not be regretted - after all, he had decided to grant Cas new life. There was no way he could _not_ be grateful for that. Not to mention the fact that he did enjoy the wonderful sex they had. Still, Cas enjoyed the possessive nature Dean held over him (although he too had a possessive streak that hadn't shown itself until a two-bit demon whore once propositioned Dean, and that night their sex had been bloody, painful and _glorious_ over the bitch's dead body).

Cas shook himself out of his reverie. Ever since turning his back on his Father, it had been extremely difficult to concentrate on one topic for very long.

Bobby had been emptying bullets into his chest, but to no avail - it simply made Cas blink as buckshot hit him violently. Dean and Sam used him as a shield, but Cas didn't mind at all - that just gave him one more reason to stay with Dean.

"Heya, Bobby. How's the weather?" Dean's voice was low and sultry, and perhaps Cas could fuck it out of him later that night. Sam's innocent laugh echoed around them, and Cas could see the moment the old hunter lost all hope.

"Your _boys_ would never return to you," Cas said after a quick scan of his mind, "and to be honest, you had nothing to worry about all those years ago - your fathering skills were _fantastic_. How many people can say they helped raise the two kids who drowned the world in blood?"

Bobby's face paled as the angel's words went through his mind. "No... that won't happen," he grunted out at last, "we'll find a way to stop you."

"Sorry, but... _who_ will stop us?" Sam countered, smiling like the cat that got the cream (Cas still didn't really understand that analogy, but it seemed like it would work). "All your friends are _dead_ , Bobby. We _killed_ them all."

"There's gotta be a way, I can't just let you..." the old man blinked heavily, surely keeping tears at bay. "I can't let this happen to you. This _can't_ happen. Don't you idjits see what this demon has done to you?" This time the words were directed only at Sam and Dean, although for some reason Bobby thought Cas was the one controlling them. How quaint.

"I'm an angel, you ass," Cas retorted, flaring out his blackened wings aggressively and startling the old hunter into silence, "and I'm not the one who's in control here. Dean is." Cas craned his neck to stare intently at his demon, who winked back flirtatiously and wrung his hands together deviously.

"What do you say we get down to business, huh? We went topside again for a reason, after all." A knife materialized in Dean's hand as he started forwards on Bobby. Cas and Sam followed, each holding some form of torture that was held dearest to them.

Ruby sure had missed out on bonding with the Winchesters.


End file.
